


The Grimm of Beacon Hills

by leOldMurders



Category: Grimm (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Bad Ass Stiles, Crossover, M/M, grimm!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 45,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9979481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leOldMurders/pseuds/leOldMurders
Summary: Summary: After the stuff with Jackson, Stiles goes home and finds something in his room. Its completely not human and all disgusting, and he kills it by accident, totally freaking out afterwards. His dad tells him that he's a Grimm from his mothers side, and everything changes. Stiles has to help Beacon Hills with the Vessen community, while keeping his true heritage a secret from the packNote: Was written in 2013, deleted off the site, and now is being reuploaded since I found copies. Terrible writing, really old, and also unfinished. Will remain unfinished.warning: there is a character in this that is thought to be a serial rapist for most of the fic. there is no actual rape i promise, but i apologize on behalf of my past self for even using it as a plot device in the first place.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so strange finding writing from middle school when you're in college. warning now, the writing is... really bad. like very cringeworthy, especially reading it like.. 4 years after i originally did.
> 
> warning reminder: there is a character in this that is thought to be a serial rapist for most of the fic. there is no actual rape i promise, but i apologize on behalf of my past self for even using it as a plot device in the first place.

  
Published at: 2012-12-29  
Revised at: 2013-06-12 23:21:00 -0400  
  
Chapter 1: The Beginning  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills**

Prologue

Stiles sat in the corner of his room, pupils blown with adrenaline as he stared at the body of the thing that had just broken into his room.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Oh fucking GOD!

What the hell had that been? Its face was just... and it just lunged at him… and its eyes…

"D-DAD!" He yelled, trembling as he slowly stood up, pressing himself into the wall. "DAD!"

He at first though: Oh hell, maybe I should have just called Derek or Scott or something. Then he thought: I don't even fucking care, I just need my dad to come in here and help me deal with this thing that was now…

Not so monster looking. It looked like a human now. Oh shit, had he killed a guy? He'd thrown the rock pretty hard… Was he going insane? What if he had a brain tumor and it was messing with his senses? Stiles began to hyperventilate, a panic attack coming on, as his knees grew weak, and he fell back down into his corner.

"Stiles? Stiles!" Oh, there was his dad. He was rushing to his son's side, and he felt his dad's hand on his cheek, as Stiles shook against the wall. "Breath Stiles, okay, breath!"

He really was trying to breathe, but all he could do was take shuddering breaths in. He knew in a corner of his mind that he needed to calm down, that this was not a time to have this happen to him. His body ignored this, as his shaking just god worse, and he heard his dad swear, then scramble to his feet and disappear. He reappeared in a couple seconds, and shoved something into the teen's hands.

A paper bag.

Stiles instantly brought it up to his mouth and started breathing into it. It crinkled and unwrinkled, as the amount of oxygen went down inside of it, and his body forced him to take normal breaths. This slowly made his breathing became normal, and his dad tugged Stiles to his chest, stroking his sons back in an attempt to comfort him.

"D-Dad. He looked like a monster." Stiles whispered finally, voice shaking as he looked up at him. "His face... it was… like a worm or something… with all these teeth…" The Sheriff tensed suddenly, his grip on his son a bit tighter.

"Stiles, I think… Its time I tell you something." His dad said after a long moment of just sitting there with his son pulled to his chest. He sounded hesitant to inform his son, his grip tightening on him slightly. "It has to do with your moms side of the family." Stiles looked up at him, a frown gracing his features.

"You're a Grimm, Stiles." His voice was final and serious. "And it's time you learned about your mothers family business."

**End Prologue**

  
  
Chapter 2: Back Home  
Summary:

Stiles returns home after a summer of training

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills**

Chapter 1

Stiles sighed lightly as he parked his jeep in his dad's driveway, running a hand through his short hair. It had been 3 months since the teen had left Beacon Hills for the summer to go to Portland, and of course, nothing had changed in the small town. Murder was running rampart still of course throughout the edges of the town, but that seemed to be pretty regular now for the town.

It was of course blamed on cougars again, but Stiles was pretty sure it had to do with wolves. Again.

 _'Maybe Uncle Burkhart should come down here.'_ He thought to himself, stepping out of his car and slamming the door shut behind him. He went to the back and pulled out his duffle bag, then another backpack that seemed to clink loudly as he slung it over his shoulder. _'He'd be killer with all of his detective skills.'_

Stiles stumbled up to his door now, and lifted his knee up, jumping to hit the door bell with it. "Oi! Dad! Your annoying mooching son is back!" He yelled, jumping slightly to keep his balance. The teen heard a thump from somewhere in the house, and the scramble of feet as someone, his dad, ran towards the door.

The door is pulled open, and there's his dad in all of his dadly glory. Stiles raised an eyebrow at him, grinning a bit. "Miss me?" He asked. His dad just laughs, and grabbed Stiles, pulling him into a tight hug, making Stiles drop the duffle on the floor to return it.

"Definitely. The place is way to quiet without you." His dad says, pulling back to grin right back at Stiles, hands resting on his shoulders. Stiles could see new lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before he left, and oldness he hadn't seen before in his face. "How was Nick?"

"He was good. Seemed to be happy that he wasn't the only other Grimm in the family. Besides Grandma of course." Stiles stepped inside his house, snatching the duffle back up, closing the door behind him. "He taught me some pretty cool stuff bout fighting. And being a detective. Seriously, if he was down here, we would have no problems with wolves or any other Wessen!"

His dad looks like he defiantly agrees to that as they go to the kitchen. The younger drops his bags on a counter, groaning. "Man, it's good to be home. Can't wait to kick some ass!" That got a look from his dad.

"You know what we discussed over the phone last month. You do cases on the down low, and you DON'T reveal yourself if you can help it." The sheriff tells him seriously. "Nick briefed me on the whole Wessen/Grimm relations thing." His voice pretty much said no screwing with this, as Stiles opened his mouth to argue. "He even told me about Reapers Stiles. I'm not letting you get your head chopped off and shown to them like a trophy! No, you do things with a mask on and everything."

Stiles made a face at first, but then his expression brightened. "I'll be like a superhero!" He laughs "I can be Monster Man or… Protector of Beacon Hills! Maybe I'll have my own comic book too!"

His dad shook his head, sighing. "I thought you'd gain some maturity in Portland. Obviously I was wrong." He chuckles though, reaching over and ruffling his son's short hair affectionately. "I got to go to the station, alright? You caught me right before I was going to leave. I won't tell anyone that your back yet. You get situated and everything then do whatever, okay?"

With that his dad was gone, and Stiles was once more left to his own devices. For once, he had stuff to do when he was at home. He picked all of his bags up again, and trudged up his stairs into his room, humming 'The kids are alright' as he did so. His room looked exactly the same as he had left it at the beginning of summer, mess and all. Maybe he should have cleaned that up before he left… no matter! He'd clean it later. Right now…

He unzipped the backpack, and poured its contents onto his bed.

Most of it contained weapons Uncle Nick had thought he might need, such as a crossbow-which he really wasn't that good at using-, mini-mace, and a dagger… those types of things would most likely EVENTUALLY come in handy. Nick had also been gracious enough to supply Stiles with a bunch of the poisons and anti-poison crap he had. Stiles was pretty sure there was something to treat Wolfsbane poisoning in there too, courteous of Nicks partner Monroe, who happened to be a Blutblad.

There were also a couple copies of the Wessen books in there, but Stiles had made sure to copy down almost all of the other ones into a tablet. It was easier to access AND more portable. He really didn't want a trailer like Nick's. That would just be a complete bother. His uncle thought he was all-secretive and crap when he went to it, but honestly anyone could follow him if they wanted too. Sure, people could hack the tablet, but it was easier to conceal and also destroy if he needed to.

Stiles just kept on humming as he picked the weapons up, pulling a box from under his bed and pouring it's contents out on his bed, which was mostly old sneakers and clothes. He then shoved the weapons in there, placing the bottles of poisons and such in. That went back under his bed. That was the most awesome hiding place right there. No one ever checks under the bed for that kind of stuff anymore. The only reason someone would check under the bed is if they were looking for porn magazines or something.

Stiles wasn't stupid about that either, he kept his porn on the tablet too. In clearly marked places of course, since he'd sadly learned the hard way with Uncle Nick to label folders.

Yeah. Labeling was good. A small flush appeared in his cheeks when he remembered the incident.

The teenage Grimm stood up straight, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed a bit. Should he go check up on Scott? Maybe tell him he was alive? Cause he had kind of disappeared for the whole summer with out a word to his best friend, or the pack, a requirement from good ol' Nick, who had been pretty adamant about it too.

"I will NOT having a pack of Blutblad's running round Portland looking for you Stiles! Either you don't talk to them for the summer or you don't get trained" The guy had practically yelled that at him when Stiles had asked if he could invite some of the pack to Portland. Stiles had immediately said 'Okay okay, don't get your panties in a twist!' He'd thought he could sneak his phone in, but nope, Nick had taken it and locked in his safe.

Though as time passed, the young Grimm had actually found he liked not having the pack breathing down his neck. He loved the pack, he really did, but… he needed secrets of his own. Though that explanation wouldn't stop Scott and Derek and really the whole pack from being pissed off at him. Whatever, he'd just make up some stupid lie. His life last year had been a whole lie to his father; it was time to switch the tables with that.

He'd say his mom's brother had been having relationship troubles with boyfriend or something. Which was sort of true, since Monroe had been kind of screwing up a bit more with Uncle Nick then what was necessary.

Stiles opened up his duffle, and shoved his hand in, feeling around for his mobile, making a face at how bad the clothes smelt in there. God he needed to wash them. His fingers slid across the smooth plastic, and he pulled it out.

He switched it on and then watched as the screen lit up. Oh man, there was like a hundred missed messages and calls. Most of them were from Scott and Derek, and then it went down the line from Lydia to Isaac. He just deleted them all, wincing slightly. He should have gotten his dad to take down his mobile plan before he left.

After going through all of the crap on his phone, he typed in a message to Scott, flopping down on his bed with a groan.

 _hey dude. back in town, whats up?_ -Stiles

Stiles didn't get anything for a couple minutes, then his phone just lets out a loud ding and he picks up his phone, mentally preparing for all caps.

 _DUDE WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING WORRIED WE WERE ABOUT YOU? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST STILES!_ –Scott

Okay, that was more swearing then he expected. A lot more. Before he could reply, his phone dinged again.

 _Get your ass over to the Hale house. Derek and the others want to talk with you._ – Scott

Oh. Maybe he should have waited until he knew Scott would be at home. And when did they hang at the Hale house?

Whatever, he should head over there before Derek began creeping in his window with a knife or something. Or Peter came by all creepy going all 'bad touch' again.

Stiles rolled off his bed and got to his feet, grabbing his red hoodie and yanking it on as he headed down stairs then outside, unlocking his Jeep again. The teen hopped in, and off he went on the roads of Beacon Hills, to the Hale house.

**(Many twists and turns in the road later…)**

Stiles pulled up the familiar dirt road to the Hale house, stretching his neck as he tried to catch a view if the Hale house before his car got there. When it first came into his vision, he just stared for a moment

Well, they had repaired the crap out of the Hale House. It looked half way to decent, though half of it was still broken and burnt. Construction equipment and wood planks were everywhere, though it was in a organized sort of chaos.

He hurried to park his car, opening his door. The pack had probably scented him a mile away, so as he approached the door, it flew open, and there was a pissed off Scott. He waved at him slightly, forcing a grin onto his face in an effort to look casual.

"Yo. Long time no see." He called up to the other, and Scott just growled, practically jumping from the steps and grabs his friend by his shirt.

"Where the hell were you?" He snapped, eyes glowing gold as his canines extended from his gums, poking his bottom lip.

"My uncles house, up in Portland." The paler teen said simply. "Dad wanted me to get away from Beacon Hills."

"Your dad doesn't have a brother!" Scott snaps, obviously thinking that Stiles was lying. He wasn't even trying to use his wolf senses on him. Scott sometimes just needed to keep a level head with this kind of stuff. He let his wolf side control him too much.

"No, but my Mom does." Stiles just looked him in the eye, expression stern now. "My mom was born up in New York with him. She was older then him by a couple years." He shrugged lightly, eyes going up to look at the rest of the pack members who were filing out. "The guy wanted me to get away from here completely so he took my phone away. It wasn't bad. He's a detective so I got to help him on cases and everything."

Derek made his way out, his typical frown plastered on his face. "You should have told us before you left." He growled lightly, surprising Stiles slightly. Did Derek actually care about what he did?

"Sorry, didn't cross my mind. Wait, no it did." That just seemed to tick Derek off more, and he moved closer, glaring down at Stiles.

"You're a fucking moron." The Alpha said in a threatening tone, and Stiles watched as his control slipped for a moment and his eyes glowed red.

"Yeah, I get that you think that. But dude, even I want personal space sometimes. I wanted to spend my summer with my cool uncle and his awesome boyfriend. I didn't want you guys busting in and just getting into my shit." He says, and Scott looks surprised for a moment, blinking. Stiles just looked Derek straight in the eye, seeing something stir in the depths of those red orbs.

Derek just broke eye contact, muttering something about stupid hyperactive teenagers as he turned around, jerking his head at the rest of the pack. He moves to the side just in time for Lydia, Isaac, and Erica to tackle Stiles to the ground. The air was pushed out of his lungs as he hit the ground, the three sitting on top of him.

The only people not hugging him seemed to be Boyd and Scott, who just watched with a bit of humor sparking in their eyes. Allison appeared next to Scott, a smile pulling at her lips.

"U-Um, guys? Help? They're crushing me!" He gasped out after a long moment, squirming under the three bodies. Scott just shook his head, not moving at all to help his formerly missing friend.

"This is part of your punishment Stiles." Scott says, snorting slightly as Erica gives Stiles a particularly hard squeeze around the middle, making him gasp for air.

"I… Hate…. You…" The Grimm wheezed out, before putting his hands on Isaacs shoulders and pushing him off with an impressive show of strength. Erica was next, then Lydia, who was still painfully human in strength. He sat up in the pile of dirt and leaves, rubbing his head slightly as he shook it out of his clothes.

"You finally built some muscle Stilinski!" Erica laughed, sitting up next to him as he grinned. "Yeah, Uncle Nick was really into working out."

Wrestling Vessen, Blutblad Step-Uncles, and much older Grimm's had its perks. Which pretty much meant muscles, which was pretty awesome. They weren't as big as any of the wolves, but he defiantly had put some on. Sadly, he would probably still be as skinny as a former porn star twink until he was an old man. He just could NOT put on fat, and with the entire total of running he had done this summer and over the last year or so, he was becoming leaner, like a track star almost.

"How come he's never visited you guys down here?" Scott asked, watching his best friend. Stiles looked back at him, shrugging. "My mom left home as soon as she was 18. Made him kind of bitter. He got over it recently, since me and Dad are his only family besides his mom."

Scott seemed to accept this reply, and offered Stiles his hand, helping him stand up again. Stiles gripped his hand for a moment, and then pulled it away, laughing a bit awkwardly as he shook his head. "So, you guys fixing the place up huh?"

"Well, once Erica and Boyd came back from the Alpha Pack, we kind of decided we needed a better headquarters. Half of the pack was sleeping here, and it just really wasn't healthy…" Allison explained to him. "So we all began buying the supplies and building it up. Derek then got sick and tired of it and hired professionals. They'll be done before winter comes."

"So… everyone lives here now?"

"Most of us." Isaac says, shrugging. "Right now its me, Erica, Derek, Peter, and most of the time Jackson. After the whole Kanima thing… he's kind of clingy to the Alpha." Stiles stifled a snort, shaking his head slightly.

"Where is the jackass anyway?""

"Said he was going to be here tonight to punch you in the face for making him have to search for you." Boyd, who was now standing to Stiles right, had finally actually said something.

"That's not my fault!"

"Yeah, but it's your fault you didn't tell Derek where you were going, so Derek decided to send us to find you. We searched for a month."

"Jeez, a whole month? Didn't know the guy cared so much about me!" Stiles rubs the back of his head again, nor exactly sure now what to do with his hands. Or what to do with this new piece of information "I am just the packs useless Human right? I mean, Lydia is awesomely smart and Allison can use a crossbow like a boss. All I do is research."

Scott frowned, and walked closer, moving Boyd out of the way as he put a hand on Stiles shoulder, looking him in the eye. "You'll never be useless, Stiles." He said softly, and Stiles looked around the group of werewolves around him, and they all had the same agreement on their faces. He couldn't stop the smile that was itching at his lips, and he soon was grinning, his eyes lighting up with happiness. So he hadn't just been an annoying kid to them… They… They actually did really care about him. Scott clapped him on the shoulder, making him pull out of his thoughts, before he pulled the Grimm into a hug of his own, hugging him tightly.

"I missed you Stiles. Not having my best friend here kind of sucked."

Stiles felt his eyes burn slightly, but he refused the cry as he hugged Scott back just as tight. "Yeah. I missed you too." He whispered to him.

Yeah, being back in Beacon Hills was good.  
**  
End Chapter 1**

  
  
Chapter 3: Swords and Pack  
End Notes:

Note number 1: A Wilderman is sort of like Bigfoot. Their really peaceful people, but pretty strong too. I thought it fitted Danny.

Note number 2: Bauerschwein are pretty much like pigs. Intense rivalry with Blutbads.

  
  


The Grimm of Beacon Hills  
Chapter 2  
-

So, a month passed by in Beacon Hills, and Stiles stayed under wraps about being a Grimm. He’d been surprised by how many kids in school were Wessen. It was about a quarter of the school, way more then Stiles projected one fifth. Hell, Stiles had found out DANNY was a Wessen. A Wildermann (1) to be exact. Stiles had practically fallen out of his chair when he’d seen the tan Lacrosse player shift. It made him wonder if Danny knew about the wolves.

It also made him wonder why Derek hadn’t told the others about Wessen yet, when he obviously knew. Especially with the Bestiary on his computer, that he now refused to let any pack members see.

“Stiles! Get up already!” There was his alarm clock. Stiles sniggered into his pillow tiredly slightly, pulling his covers up as hid, his father in his doorway. “You really need to set your alarm clock. I’m not going to be able to do this everyday for the rest of your life, you know.”

“Well, excuse me for staying up late doing research.” Stiles grumbled, pulling the sheet down from over his face, rubbing a hand over his face as he groaned. God, why was it so bright? “Turn off the damn ligggght!”

“No. You need to get up, you have a pack meeting, remember?” The Sheriff grabbed Stiles’s foot, which is sticking out from under the blankets, tugging on it in an attempt to pull him out from under the covers.

“The Podling is still in Cryosleep! The Fathership should not wake him until the end of the journey!” The Grimm grumbled, hanging onto the edge of his mattress as he squirmed. 

“No way. Get up or I’m pouring cold water on you.” 

“I’M UP!” Stiles jerked up, arms and legs flailing as he fell out of his bed. His dad snorted, shaking his head as he turned around, putting his hands up. “I’ll put your bread in the toaster!” John called over his shoulder, shutting the door behind him as his son rubbed his head, wincing.

“Blehh, stupid jerky Alpha… organizing stupid pack meetings on Saturday morning…” He grumbled, crawling over to his dresser and going up on his knees, pulling it open. He pulled his necessary clothes out, yanking his clothes off then the new ones on. He then lay back down on the floor, letting air escape his lungs as he stared at the ceiling, toes twitching slightly in his socks. 

“I should probably get up…” He mumbled to himself “But this floor is so comfortable…” His eyelashes flutter slightly, and Stiles yawned again, curling up slightly on his side. He’d only close his eyes for a second, really…

“STILES! Your toast is burning!” Stiles let out a whimper of annoyance, covering his ears again, slowly standing as he pushed his door open. The brunette stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen. He fished the burnt toast out, not even caring that it was charred as he popped it into his mouth. It tastes bad, but at the moment he’d too much in a rush to get out the door to really care about it.

The drive to the Hale house is made in a frenzy almost, as he tries not to speed but miserably fails. He knows he’s at least 10 minutes late when he finally arrived, slamming his car door shut as he stumbles over his own feet. The Grimm bursts through the front door, slipping his sneakers off and stumbling into the living room where everyone is already assembled.

“Sorry I’m late!” He apologizes, ignoring the sharp glare from Derek as he yanks a chair over, plopping down on it and looking up at the pack. “My ah, alarm clock didn’t go off.” He heard a little cough of ‘bullshit’ come from Jackson, but ignored it as usual.

“Either come on time or don’t come at all.” The Alpha grunted, before turning his attention back to the others, who seemed to be way more worth his time apparently. He continued to go on about what he had been speaking about before, which seemed to be the Alpha pack. “The Alpha packs been scented near the school. We have to start working on this more. Scott, Boyd, you two are going to start doing recon farther out from the school…” Stiles pulled his cell phone, vaguely listening to Derek as he entered in his Uncles address.

 _hey, could you send me some big bags of mountain ash?_ -Stiles

It was a little while, but his phone buzzed lightly after a second, Nicks name flashing on the screen.

 _Sure. You still having trouble with wolves?_ -Nick

 _yeah, alpha pack keeps on getting closer to the school. thinking about making circles around some of the packs human friends._ –Stiles

Do you need me to come down and take care of them? –Nick

 _no no no! no, I can take care of it, don’t worry. You stay up there with your hunky man and be all awesome and what not._ –Stiles

 _Alright. If you’re sure. But, if you do need help Stiles…_ -Nick

 _I know whom to call, I get it._ –Stiles

Stiles didn’t feel the heavy glare that was burning into him, head bent down as he texted. 

“Will you stop being so unproductive for a second and actually try to pay attention, Stiles?!” Stiles head snapped up, blinking at the annoyed wolf. “Hm?”

Derek growl grew louder, muscles rippling as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Put your phone down and pay attention, or just leave. Your making all of us listen to your way to loud texting.” His eyes narrow at him “And I certainly don’t appreciate it.”

Stiles hand clenches around his phone a bit but he relaxed his fist slowly, forcing a grin onto his face. “Oh yeah, sorry man! I was texting a friend of mine back in Portland. I’ll stop now.” The shorthaired teen leaned back in the chair, shoving his phone back into the depths of his pocket. He’d organize more things with his uncle later- right now he would just have to be quiet and pay attention to the Alpha… Who really just needed some anger management classes. Maybe he’d buy him a free pass to 5 anger management classes for his birthday or something.

It would do wonders with the wolf, and the whole pack would be so grateful to him for solving the Grumpy Alpha of the Hale pack case. Then he’d get an awesome kiss from some attractive looking person, loose his virginity, then rise off into the sunset as the best Grimm in history. 

Though that might be a bit of a exaggeration, he supposed.

“Stiles, you can do some research on the surrounding neighborhoods and find out who’s been moving in.” Derek then turned his attention back to the others. “It’s time we get serious about this. Beacon Hills is OUR territory, and the sooner we teach that to them the better.”

“But Derek…” Isaac said hesitantly, frowning lightly as he thought. “Their Alphas… we can’t take them on. At least not all at once…”

“We’ll figure something out. We’ll kill them one by one if we have to. We are NOT giving our territory up.” Derek’s eyes glow red for a moment, and Stiles just rolled his eyes, releasing a small sigh as he stood, chair screeching,

“If that’s all, then I’m going back home to sleep! Maybe I will skip these pack meetings from now on.” He glances at Scott for a second. “Scott can just fill me in over the phone or something.” 

“Why don’t you just not come anymore?” Jackson asked, leaning forward, his arms crossed over his muscled chest. “Seriously you’re not doing anything. We’ll call you up if we need any help with Mountain Ash circles or something.” Stiles saw Derek shoot Jackson an annoyed look, and for a moment he thought the Alpha was going to say something about Stiles not doing anything. But no, it was Scott who piped up, frowning at Jackson.

“Stiles is doing something. He does all the research! That’s a big help.” Scott looks back at Stiles, smiling. “He’s pack.” He then looks back at Derek.

“He’s pack right? He doesn’t have to be a werewolf to be a part of it right?”

“… Sure. Whatever.” Derek sighed, waving a hand in exasperation, not meeting Scotts gaze. “He’s pack. Now get out of here.” Stiles grinned at Derek happily, and with a nod, scrambling to his feet again. 

“I’ll get started on that research once I’ve gotten another hour of sleep!” He called over his shoulder, before disappearing quickly. Once he was outside, he glanced back at the house, pulling his cell phone out and dialing his uncle’s number, jumping in his jeep and driving off towards the main road.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey it’s stiles! You know you’re my favorite uncle, right?”

_“What do you want?”_

“Uh, nothing much, I was wondering, along with the Mountain Ash, can you send me another one of your weapons?”

_“Like what Stiles?”_

“Like that really cool sword that you can shove vials of different liquids in so the blades poisoned? I promise I’ll return it.” Stiles tone went into begging mode, and subconsciously he began doing puppy eyes at the windshield, like his uncle could see them over the phone.

_“… All right fine. Don’t tell your dad though. I’ll send it to you with the mountain ash sometime.”_

“Thanks! You are the absolute best!” Stiles hung up with a gleeful grin. He really liked that sword. It was really beautiful, with a long blade that was sharper then anything. The hilt had a opening at the top where you could shove a open vial, and then the liquid would flow down the blade. Sort of like Saya’s sword from Blood+, except way cooler. Cause it had the Grimm symbol carved right into the blade, and it was pretty badass. His uncle had told him it had been in the family for a long time, and that his Great-Grandmother had slayed Wessen left and right with it. 

It was also the best werewolf-killing sword in the whole country. Stiles was pretty sure that the swords English name was ‘Killer of the Beast’ which could retain to any species of course, but he liked to apply it to stupid Alpha packs who thought they could mess with a Grimm’s town. Oh man, if he got to fight him with that thing… they’d probably pee their little wolfie selves. 

Though if Derek found out, probably Stiles would be banned from the pack forever then hunted down by a riot of Vessen. Vessen on the West Coast were like, a thousand times more hateful of Grimm’s. It wasn’t as bad as it was in Europe, but still bad enough.

Stiles had even heard of a Grimm that had accidently killed a Vessen woman when she got in its way, and that Grimm had been torn apart by a mob. It had been a big wakeup call for all Grimm’s, Nick had told him, that they needed more rigorous training for the newer ones. 

That rigorous training was a complete bitch though.

Stiles sighed, shaking his head a bit. He glances up after a moment, and sees his mailman. The nice old man is putting a letter in his mailbox, but when another car drives by and splashes him with water, his face twists. 

Bauerschwein(2). That must suck, being in a town full of North American Blutbads.

Good to know that someone might have it worse then him then. Though so far, ebing a Grimm really didn’t seem that bad as long as no one knew what he was. Stiles could live with that without a problem.

End Chapter 2

  
  
Chapter 4: The Murder  
Summary:

Stiles gets his first case and meets someone new

  
  
End Notes:

Mellifer(1) Like gossip queens. Bee-like, and have venom that can kill with a single sting.  
Drang-Zorn(2) – A badger like Wessen. Can be aggressive, but usually a bit docile.

  
  


**Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 3  
-

When Stiles got home from the meeting and got some more sleep, he began on his research for Derek, thinking he might as well get it done before the wolf decided to throw Stiles into another wall so he would get it done. Hunkered down at his desk, He had been typing away at his laptop, a piece of paper with scribbled down notes at his side. He hadn’t noticed when his dad walked into his room, in full Sheriff garb, leaning against his doorframe. 

“Hey, Stiles. I think I have one of your cases.”

“Hm?” Stiles looked up from his laptop at his dad, pencil dangling from his lips. As it dropped onto his desk, he blinked again, expression brightening suddenly. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. It’s a series of disappearances. Girls and guys, from various clubs.” John pulled out a file from his bag, looking slightly hesitant as he gave it to Stiles. He had some inkling in the back of his head that he knew he was throwing Stiles into danger. “We haven’t been able to find a single one of them yet but…”

“But it happened again?” Stiles began flipping through the file, examining everything.

“I think so. Last night at The Jungle, a guy was having drinks with this other guy in the back. Next thing the club people know, he’s unconscious on the ground, with hives all over his face. We took samples from his skin and apparently some weird chemical or something washed over him. It’s been found at the other kidnapping sites so…”

“So this guy used the chemical and his victim had a allergic reaction?”

“Yeah, that’s my guess. Just… can you go down to the club and check it out? Ask the owner and everything? Nick told me that Wessen love places like the Jungle and that most of the times there usually run them, so the owner could be one. If he sees you’re a Grimm he might be willing to release a bit more info.” 

“Using your son to solve a case? I’m hurt dad.” Stiles joked as he stood and walked over to his door, picking his black jacket up from the ground and pulling it on. “All right, I’ll go have a look. I’m guessing its like, a Mellifer(1). I bet it accidently injected its venom in the club.”

“I’ll pretend like I know what that is.” His dad sighs, shaking his head as he turns and leaves. Stiles grins lopsidedly at his receding back, then pretty much raced out of the room and past him as he let out a whoop.

“MY FIRST CASE, FUCK YEAH!”

**(At the Jungle)**

The police have left by the time Stiles arrived at The Jungle. There’s still tape though, in the back of the club, blocking people from contaminating the crime scene. The club owner already opened the place back up, but not many people are there since its well, daylight. It did mean however, Stiles had to sneak in the back door. 

At least he remembered to change into his tight butt-hugging skinny jeans in the car, along with a shirt that was very nice and tight. He didn’t really want to stand out as a non-gay person like the last time. His dad had been right when he said Stiles couldn’t be gay dressed the way he did, and with this it seemed he would have to dress the part if he wanted to blend.

Cause he wasn’t really straight of course. Stiles was bisexual, having a bit more love for those of the male gender. No one knew yet, not even Scott. Though, the Grimm was pretty sure his uncle suspected him of being Bi since he’d caught Stiles checking out a guy’s ass in Portland.

And maybe because of the gay porn on his tablet.

Yeah that was probably it.

Stiles just sighed, strolling through the thin crowd till he got to the bar, making himself comfortable there, squirming on the bar stool a bit. The bar tender came over, and he just asked for a glass of water. When he returned, Stiles took a sip before asking:

“Where’s the owner of this place?”

“Hm? Oh he’s over in his office.” The bar tender jerked his head towards a door labeled to the right as Manager. “Why?”

“Oh, I just got to talk to him that’s all.” Stiles stood, and before the bartender could say anything else, walked over to the door, knocking on it before entering. “Hello?”

“I thought I told you not to disturb me-“ A lean looking male turned around in his chair, before blinking at Stiles, confused.

“Oh. Can I help you sir?”

“Yes, yes you can I think. You see, I’m sort of looking into the death of a certain Riley Harkness that took place yesterday night.” Stiles took a seat across from him, keeping his voice level and calm as he kept eye contact with the other. The man swallows, and Stiles watches as his face shifts. Drang-Zorn(1) it looked like.

The club owner instantly noticed that Stiles saw him shift, and jerks back, eyes wide as he’s shaking.

“I-I didn’t do it! D-Don’t hurt me, please, I have a wife and kid!” He gasped, face transforming, and staying that way. “She’s about to mature too, and I won’t let her hurt anyone…!”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I just want information, alright?” The man nods quickly, hands trembling as he clasped them on his desk. “Did you see any suspicious Wessen before the attack?”

“N-No more then usual. T-There was a couple ones that were drunk, but no.”

“Are you sure? Did you see any Mellifer?”

“N-No Mellifer. Not a single one.” 

Stiles nodded at him, knowing he was telling the truth, a sigh escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. “Great.” His eyes go back to the club owners face. “Forget my face and delete the security camera videos of me. Thank you for your corporation.”

The man looks dumbstruck, but nods slowly, sweat rolling down his face as he watches Stiles leave his office. 

‘So Mellifer aren’t probably the murderer. What else could cause a reaction like that then?...’ Stiles was so in depth with his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice Derek in the crowd. When he glanced up and saw the Alpha heading to the club owners office, he swore loudly, ducking into a shadow.

‘Shit!’

**(Derek POV)**

The news of the murder had gotten out quick to Derek, and once he got it, the Alpha had driven off in his Camaro to the club. Since the Alpha pack had moved in, he was being extra careful with every murder that happened in this town. Every one of them could be caused by the new arrivals, and every single one of them could be a new hint to finding the pack before they caused more damage.

Though, he doubted this one was. No, this one seemed like it was caused by a different species of Wessen. Who he’d eventually have to track down and threaten bodily harm to the other if he killed again. That usually had worked for his Father when he was Alpha. Beacon Hill’s was his territory, and he didn’t need some punk ass Wessen thinking he could do what he wanted.

Derek made his way through the small crowd that was building to the club owner’s office. He believed the man’s name was Richard or something. He pushed the door open, nose wrinkling a bit when the strong smell of fear- and the undertones of something familiar- hit his nose.

“Oh god, I gave you what you want, don’t kill me!” 

Derek blinks.

“What?”

The man, Richard, has his hands covering his face, and peaks through the gaps of his fingers. “T-The Grimm. H-He sent you to kill me!”

Grimm.

Instantly Derek’s whole body tensed. A Grimm was in Beacon Hills? That was bad news. Grimm’s never bode well for packs of Blutbad, and several times he had heard of packs that had been wiped out by a single one.

“What Grimm?” His voice comes out in a growl, and he slams his hand down on the desk for added measure, face shifting as his eyes glowed a bloody red. “Tell me now!”

“Y-You didn’t know?” Richard whimpered, looking a bit pitiful as he sat up more in his seat. “H-He was in here a second ago!”

Derek let out another growl, and the other put up his hands. “I-I’m not going to tell you a thing about him! He’ll kill me if I do!”

The Alpha let out another growl of anger, before slamming out of the room and back into the club. A Grimm in town. A fricken goddamn Grimm. He bet it was that stupid Alpha packs fault that they had noticed the town. Derek heard that most Grimm’s scoured articles that seemed off and odd, and then they would begin researching and asking around their networks… Then if they had a confirmed Wessen doing the deeds, they’d show up with guns a blazing. 

He breathed in deeply through his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Now was not the time to loose his cool. He was the Alpha, and even with this Grimm, he’d continue to do what he was supposed to do, which was to take care of his pack. He felt all of the scents wash into his nose as he kept breathing deeply. Most of it was sweat and sex smells, but when he breathed in again, nostrils flaring, he could smell something very familiar in the thickening crowd of people.

He could smell the distinct smell of Stiles.

**(Stiles POV)**

‘Oh shit he noticed me!’ Stiles instantly tensed as he saw the other jerk around, scenting the air more, face looking slightly confused. He looked around a bit frantically, noticing a handsome male looking his age near the bar. He went over quickly, grabbing his shoulders.

“Sorry, I need to borrow your lips!” The Grimm said, before pulling the other down to a hard kiss. The other seemed surprised at first, a muffled question escaping, before he began kissing back just as hard, arms wrapping around Stiles’s waist. 

Oh wow. This guy was a good kisser. And wow, did he smell good, like cinnamon and freshly mown grass on a summer morning. 

He really got into it too. There was tongue and moans, and Stiles almost didn’t notice Derek standing behind him until he broke the kiss with a gasp. The guy looked at him with a look of appreciation, grinning, and Stiles grinned back. Then he heard the small growl behind him, gave the guy a ‘wait for me’ kind of look, and then turned to face Derek.

“Oh hey Derek!” Stiles grinned at him, knowing his lips slightly pinker from being kissed by the stranger. “Weird to see you here!”

“Why are you here?” Derek’s voice is demanding.

“As you can see, I’m just trying to have some fun before my weekend is up.” Stiles glanced back at the guy, a smirk on his lips. He looked back at Derek, raising an eyebrow. “What? You didn’t actually think I was straight right?”

“Your in love with Lydia.”

“I _was_ in love with Lydia. Now I’m not. Now I’m sort of playing for more of the same team.” He shrugged lightly. “My love for Lydia is more like brotherly/sisterly kind of thing. Now excuse me, I’m going to continue to suck face with this handsome young man.”

Derek made another annoyed noise, before jerking away from the bar and into the crowd again. Stiles watched him go, releasing a small breath. He turned back to the guy, grinning.

“Thanks for that man.” He said, shaking his head. “I’m Stiles by the way.”

The other laughed slightly. “No problem. I love being kissed by sexy guys. I’m Ricker.”

“Well Ricker, tell me more about your self.”

Soon, the two were lost in conversation, and Stiles didn’t notice Derek glaring at Ricker from the doorway of the club, his fists clenched hard at his sides, jaw clenching and unclenching several times over before he turned and left.

**End Chapter 3**

  
  
Chapter 5: Deceitful  
Summary:

Stiles's new friend isn't what he seems, and Derek feels bad

  
  
End Notes:

Note 1: Ziegevolk are like goats, and usually stocky in size, though not necessarily so. Attract females and males using their scent. Breeders eat frogs to enhance this, and bring the girls hoping to rape and impregnate them. Very uber dangerous.

  
  


**Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 4  
-

Ricker leaned closer to Stiles, a smile playing on his lips as he watched the animated teen. Oh man, was this one a find. A beautiful face and a beautiful body… that guy whom Stiles had that little spat with didn’t know what he was missing. Or he did, and he was just an idiot not to claim it. 

This one... this one was one he wanted. He wanted to put him with the others and never let him go.

“How old are you anyway?”

Stiles voice pulled him out of his musings, and he looked up, raising an eyebrow “Me? I’m 18 this coming month.” The skinnier teenager grinned “Oh so you’re a year older then me then. I haven’t seen you around Beacon Hills though.”

“My parents have me homeschooled.” Ricker said, shrugging slightly. That was a lie; he had graduated early from high school back from his last town. He had told the school that he was a senior when he was actually only supposed to be a junior. Ricker was smart enough to get through school without a hitch.

“I go to Beacon Hills. Kinda sucky there since it’s a bit crazy.” Stiles face looks wistful for a moment, before shaking his head as he sat up more. “Anyway, awesome meeting you man. Thanks again for the smokin’ make out session and every thing.” Ricker blinked slightly, grabbing Stile’s wrist, not willing to let him go without giving the other his phone number. He slips the piece of paper with it on it into Stiles hand, winking.

“Call me sometime~”

Stiles nodded, and turned, walking away with a skip to his step, not noticing how Ricker’s face transformed, a small noise escaping his throat. 

He’d start looking in the address to find Stiles’s one when he got home. 

**(Stiles POV)**

Stiles left the club feeling a bit giddy. That had just been awesome. A hot guy was interested in him, he had his first Wessen case, and had the hot guys number shoved in his pocket for later. Oh man, he was just high on happiness! 

Nothing would ruin this night, nope nothing. Not even the overly grumpy Alpha leaning on the hood of Stiles’s jeep, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the ground. He actually kind of looked depressed, which was weird because Derek never looked depressed. Derek always looked grumpy or emotionless. At least he did when Stiles was around.

“You know, your gunna need to get your ass off my car if I’m going to drive home.” Stiles hummed, raising an eyebrow at Derek. “I don’t really wanna run your ass over. No matter how fun it would be to get back at you for all the shit you do.”

“Stay away from the club.” Derek said, looking up at Stiles and meeting his eyes. “There was a murder there last night. Could be the Alphas”

“No it wasn’t! The guy had some allergic reaction!” Stiles’s heart didn’t even stutter as he lied to Derek. Lying was a skill he got down now, though he still came up with the worst ones when he was excited or hyped up. “It totally was just an accident. Which means it’s okay for me to go there and get some lovin’ “

“Stay away or I’ll tell your father that you when the a club.”

“He already knows, idiot!” Stiles rolled his eyes, inwardly snickering at the others expression. “I’m not going to lie to my dad about my sexuality.” That was a bit of a white lie. The Sheriff had yet to be informed that his son was Bi. 

Another surprised look crossed over Derek’s face, but it was wiped clean in a second. “… Alright, get yourself killed then!” He snapped, anger flashing over his features. And something else entirely from anger, as the Alpha jerked away from Stiles’s jeep.

Stiles was crazy enough for a moment to think that it was jealousy covering his features. He shook his head, rubbing his forehead as he pulled his jeep door open and took a seat. He let his fingers wrap around the steering wheel, rubbing the leather of it as he tried to relax. 

Slowly, he got his nerves under control, and then pulled out of the parking lot and into the road.

He’d think about the complexities of Derek Hale after he looked into the thing that had killed last night in the bar. That was his main goal, after all. 

Human lives before Wessen. The job before your personal life. That was always something that was pushed in the Grimmopedia.

He didn’t have to like that though. He could see why Uncle Nick was so stressed about work and Grimm stuff and his relationship with Monroe. Stiles had barely even started and he could see how being a Grimm was going to be a problem with school and everything.

He’d probably end up spending a lot more time at the Jungle, that’s for sure. And spending a lot more time around Ricker.

**(Derek POV)**

Derek ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenching slightly as he made his way to his car. God damnit, what was getting into him? He shouldn’t be so worried about what Stiles did. Yeah, the kid was pack and all, but it wasn’t like Derek was exceptionally close to him.

He was sort of just that guy that was the comic release. Which made Derek feel bad for thinking that, because Stiles was useful. Just none of the pack seemed to invest any time in getting to know him except for Scott and Lydia. He was his friend way before any of the pack had even really talked to the excitable teenager. Erica and Isaac sort of knew him, but it was in the sense that he was someone that provided comfort with his presence.

Which of course made him feel a bit worse. Stiles’s personality was bigger then his presence, but most of the pack members just let the things he said fly by without even listening. His jiberish had meaning. 

None of them had bothered to find out what family Stiles had left, how is mother died… Hell, they didn’t even know his real name. Stiles had gone to Portland, and only then had they realized how important he was. Now with him back, it was reverting to how it was before he left. Stiles was beginning to disappear into the pack again.

Which didn’t seem like a good thing to the Alpha, as he sat in his car staring at the wheel.

**(Back at Stiles’s house, Stiles POV)**

Stiles banged into his room and pulled out his tablet, pulling a piece of gum from his pocket and popping it into his mouth, chewing it as he unlocked his device. He opened up the files for the Grimm books- labeled in the folder PORN to put people off from opening it. Or at least people like his dad.

The Grimm began pouring through the chapters as he sat on his bed, sighing. He looked for anything that had poison, chemicals that leaked off it, anything that would give him a hint. It was harder since he had no idea what he was looking for besides something that could kill with chemicals and liked kidnapping people when they went bad. 

That narrowed it down to about 2/5 of his records, which was still a substantial number in his books. A lot of these wouldn’t even set foot in Northern America, but until he was absolutely sure with what he was dealing with…

He couldn’t take any chances and cancel any of these out of the running.

So he kept flipping through all the results, muttering things in the Old German when he came across it, or opening up a translator for everything else. He pulled the pages he thought would be likely into another file to look through later. Hours seemed to pass with him doing this, his vision to beginning to hurt from staring at the screen so long.

After staring at the screen for about ten more minutes, Stiles threw up his hands in exasperation, scowling deeply. “Just what the hell? What is this thing?!” He complained, rubbing his eyes with a hand as he set the tablet down next to him on the bed. “I mean seriously! This shouldn’t be that hard! What kidnaps people and can sometimes kill them with poison?!”

_‘I mean, what else could kill it? A wacky scent of doom?’_

Suddenly, Stiles bolted up right, eyes widening “I’m a moron!” He gasped, slapping his forehead. _What if it wasn’t a poison?_

What if it was a pheromone? Monroe had mentioned something about some species of Wessen being allergic to certain scents one type would give off. He hadn’t mentioned it by name, but Stiles bet if he cross-referenced a couple things…

He quickly picked his tablet back up and did a search for the new bit of knowledge he had, fingers scrambling over the screen as he typed. Stiles now had a better idea of what he was going to be hunting then ever before, and hopefully, it wasn’t the something that he really didn’t want it to be.

After finally cross-referencing all of the details about the reaction, he sat back and watched his tablet to its work, calculating it’s way through the many pages. He hoped that it wasn’t going to be in archaic Latin or some shit like that. It took a while but finally…

One result popped up on the screen, and nervously, Stiles clicked the result.

His shoulders drooped dramatically at what he saw.

What he was hunting, was a Ziegevolk Breeder(1)

One that didn’t have qualms about gender or ethics.

Fuck.

**End Chapter 4**

  
  
Chapter 6: Alphas Murdered  


**Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 5  
-

“Lydia, that is the worst idea ever.”

“No it’s not! The pack needs something like this! A Pack night is a fantastic idea!” Lydia grinned at Stiles, her strawberry blond curls bouncing in her ponytail as she handed him a water bottle. He sighed, taking a deep drink from the bottle, breathing heavily as he wiped sweat from his eyes. 

It had become a habit for him and Lydia to go jogging together every morning or afternoon. He always got pretty sweaty from it, but she always stayed perfectly fine. She didn’t look winded.

It was kind of unfair, he was the Grimm, and she was the human. Why couldn’t he be blessed with no sweat glands? It would be such a blessing.

“So what’s your plan to convince the others then?”

“I don’t need to~” She hummed, smirking. “I got Derek to agree so all of them will be coming along if they want to or not. We’re going to watch a movie tonight! And yes, it’s required that you come Stiles. No arguments what so ever!” Stiles groaned, rubbing his eyes. “But… but…”

Lydia just gave him a look, and he closed his mouth in an instant, offering a nervous smile. “Okay, okay, you’re the boss.”

“Good~ We’ll be meeting at Derek’s house~ I’m letting Isaac pick the movie~ Next time it’ll be Allison, then Scott, Jackson, me, Derek, and so on!”

“We’re just going to watch movies on these nights?”

“Nah, we’ll do other stuff. Me and you will brainstorm some ideas sometime.” The other stretched, pulling her hair free from the hair tie. “Anyway, how is the research going? You figured out who the Alpha pack guys are?”

“I got a pretty good idea.” After he had finished his research on the killer from the club a couple days ago, he’d had to stay up all night going through recent house sales and unexplained witnesses of the people the Alphas had murdered. None of it was definite yet, but when he confirmed their identities he was going to go after them. Though he needed his uncle’s sword first. 

And he’d have to kill that Ziegavolk too. 

Who was being a bitch to find. He’d gone to the Jungle the last couple nights, and hadn’t seen any Ziegavolk. Though Ricker had been there, and Stiles had been able to enjoy many more conversations with the other. He’d discovered for one, that Ricker was amazingly intelligent sometimes. He had complex conversations with the other on a wide array of subjects, and the elder never seemed to bore the Grimm. 

Suddenly Stiles’s phone began ringing, and he pulled it out, answering.

“Hello?”

 _“Stiles, there’s been another murder by the school. Derek’s got the scent of one of the Alphas!”_ It was Scott, sounding very out of breath. Stiles could hear the thump of footprints, so he assumed that the other was running. _“We need you to get over here so when we catch him you can confirm it’s one of the suspects on your list!”_

“Got it, got it, where’s Derek heading exactly?” Stiles stood from the bench, zipping his hoodie up.

 _“Warehouse district! I’ll meet you there!”_ With that Scott hung up on Stiles, and the Grimm looked up at Lydia. “I’ll talk about this later, kay? I gotta meet Scott for something!”

“Pack stuff?”

“Pack stuff! I’m sure Derek will fill you in later!” Stiles quickly ran over to his car, waving goodbye to Lydia as he slammed the door open and shut, shifting into drive and pulling away. 

\--------

Stiles pulled his black jacket on, zipping it up as the hood covered his face. He dug around in the back of his car for a moment, before pulling something out. He sprayed a bottle of a unidentified liquid on him, then grabbed a crossbow from his back seat. He made sure to grab his dagger as well, shoving it in the back of his pants for easy access.

He had to take down this Alpha himself, get information out of him, then get the hell out of there before Derek could find him. The liquid he’d dabbed on his body changed his scent enough so Derek couldn’t tell it was him. It was a simple combination of wolfsbane and valerian, another recipe he had learnt from his pseudo Uncle Monroe. 

He’d just gone to the pharmacy and got the valerian- usually used as a sleeping agent- and ground it up with wolfsbane then mixed with water. Dabbed on the body and it would put whoever was trying to scent you nose to sleep. It was actually pretty cool.  
Stiles made his way towards the warehouse, watching as a large figure duck into a window. It was obviously the Alpha Derek was chasing, but the other wolf was nowhere to be seen. Good. He didn’t really want to have to knock Derek unconscious. 

The hooded figure quickly got into the warehouse, slipping in the shadows as he tried to remain stealthy. He had been doing a good job of it as well, sliding around on his feet. That went out the window though, when he knocked over a can, its clattering noise ringing through the warehouse.

“Who’s there?” The snappish voice of a male came out, hostile and wary. Stiles breathed in deep, and emerged from the shadows, pulling his hood more over his face.

“Hello there.” Stiles’s voice is cool, as he aims the crossbow at the Alpha. He fires a shot, and as expected the Alpha catches the arrow, letting out a laugh. He clips the crossbow to his belt, sighing. He still didn’t have good enough aim, and the Alpha was too fast.

Stupid wolves and their awesome reflexes. 

He pulls the knife from the back of his pants and palms it, running towards the wolf as he brandished the weapon. The Grimm anticipated the wolfs move, and got in its way, grabbing the back of its head and yanking it back with exceptional strength, catching the Alpha of guard. He hit the ground with a thump, and before the Alpha can even move out of the way, Stiles jammed the knife into his stomach, sitting on his hips.

It feels weird, killing another living thing. Blood was bubbling up already, getting on his hands and staining his fingers read.

“Tell me where the rest of your pack is!” He demanded, eyes glinting in the dim moonlight. “You do and I leave the knife in, give you some time to get help.” The Alpha shook its head, face shifting as he snapped his jaws. Stiles just jammed the knife deeper into the other, a small growl escaping his throat as blood began to pour out.

“Tell me now.”

“Y-Your a Grimm, aren’t you? You’ve come to kill us all.” The Alpha pants, blood spattering against Stiles’s face. “You’re going to kill us all.” An insane laugh escapes his throat, and Stiles can see now that he’s a lost cause. He pulled the knife from the wound, and jammed it again into another part of his body. 

Nausea hits him then, as he sat back. The Alpha is sputtering and choking on his own blood, swearing at Stiles. Slowly, Stiles stood, hand shaking as he turned, leaving as fast as he had came. 

He should have gotten Nick to show him a better way of torture then jamming wolfsbane covered knives into blutbads, he vaguely thinks as he gets outside and heads to his Jeep to clean up.

**(Derek POV)**

Derek had been side tracked by the other Alphas as he had chased the one he had first scented. They'd led him on a giant wild goose chase, first towards the warehouse district, then away. When they finaly realize that they'd been tricked, he and Scott had split up.

Though, when Derek finally does finds the Alpha he was tracking, he’s dead in a pool of his own blood. Right next to his head in the blood, the symbol of the Grimm had been drawn. A message for his pack, Derek assumed.

Derek crouched by the body, rolling it over so he could get a better look at the wounds. There were clean stabs and cuts. This was defiantly done with skill and precision. He’d cut an artery clean through even on his arm. He sniffed the wound, finding traces of Wolfsbane in the cut. 

Derek sat back, rubbing his head as he waited, sniffing the air for the scent of the Grimm in the mean time. The air smelt weird; like it was numb… the Grimm must have used something to cover his scent. 

Smart of him

Scott arrived soon after, and froze. “You killed him by yourself?!”

Derek just shook his head. “No. It wasn’t me.” Scott strolled over, frowning at the body. “The hell… what’s with the blood symbol?”

“I’ll explain later. Where’s Stiles? I need him to confirm that this guy was on his list.”

“Stiles is right here!” The energetic teen seemed to appear out of nowhere, his hair damp with water as well as his shirt. Derek raised an eyebrow at this, but didn’t ask. 

“Why are you soaked man?”

“I was on my run with Lydia when you called. Poured some water on me so I could cool off.” Stiles explained to Scott, shrugging as he looked down at the body. “What’s with the creepy skull Derek?”

“I’ll explain later.” Derek repeated to Stiles, and both he and Scott rolled his eyes at the Alpha. Derek ignored that. “So is he on the list?”

“Hard to tell…” Stiles murmured, examining the dead wolfs face. “I think so though. He looks like one of the adults that moved into this one house I looked up.” He pulled his cell phone out and took a picture of the guys face. “I’ll compare it when I get home.”

Then the teenager turned on his heel and went back the way he came, leaving Derek to watch him leave.

\---------

Derek met Scott’s eyes as they sat in his Camaro, face stern as he watched the other.

“I suppose you want to know what was that in there.” He stated, and Scott nodded, frowning.

“What the hell was with the symbol? Who killed that Alpha?”

“It’s… complicated Scott. It’s not something I can easily tell you.” He looked back at him. “Once I know what we’re dealing with exactly, I’ll tell you and the pack.” Which was sort of true. Derek needed to find out which brother Grimm this one was descended from. A difficult task, but Stiles would be able to figure it out. Then he would tell them. 

“You promise that you will?”

Derek nodded, starting the car up. “Yeah, I do.”

\--------

After the Alpha Derek Hale and his Beta left, a figure emerged from the farthest corner, a very female figure swaying over to the body of the Alpha. She bared her fangs when she saw the symbol of the Grimm, her claws coming out.

She pulled her cell phone out, dialing a number quickly.

“We have a problem. There’s a Grimm in town.”

\--------

**(No one specific POV)**

After everything was said and done, everyone in the pack turned up at Derek’s house for the movie. They all gathered in the kitchen, and most were thrilled to see that both Lydia and Stiles had brought food. Stiles had picked up pizza and pop on his way there and Lydia had baked a cake especially for their first Pack night.

Derek hadn’t said a single word about the Alpha attack or the symbol to any of the members, and Scott had kept his mouth shut about it, even though the teen was dying to know what was in town. And seemed to have Derek so on edge. It wasn’t every day that the tan Beta saw fear in the larger’s eyes.

He would wait for him to tell him. Derek would tell him. Even after the events of the previous year, and the battle to finally fall into the pack routine, Scott trusted Derek. It surprised him, but he did. 

They all settled down in the living room in front of the TV Jackson had bought with his parents money. Isaac had brought the first Lord of the Rings movie to watch, and everyone had been pleased with the pick. Most of them had ended up on the floor, huddled together in a pile of limbs. Isaac and Erica had Stiles laying on their laps, Lydia using his stomach as a pillow as she linked fingers with Jackson. Derek had sat on the armchair beside them, lost in his thoughts and not really paying attention to the movie and the others. 

It all had surprisingly turned out okay for them.

**End Chapter 5**

  
  
Chapter 7: Bonding  
Summary:

Allison and Stiles bond

  
  
End Notes:

I always imagined that Allison would be very playful around Stiles when they really got going. I don’t immediately like her in the show, but in fanfiction she is a lot more bearable. She becomes a better person in them for me. In the show she just seems… really Bella-Like. She’s useless most of the time, whiney, and just another distracting face that jumps to conclusions really quickly. I defiantly prefer Scott with Isaac most of the time in FF if the author isn’t good at portraying characters,

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 6  
-

Stiles was doing something he normally, really didn’t do.

He was skipping school in favor of doing training. His aim with the crossbow was okay but… it was something he really was lacking in, as proven by the confrontation with the Alpha. The Grimm was defiantly not as good as Allison or any of the Argents, or his uncle. The crossbow was something that could save his life someday against a Wessen. 

So Stiles was standing in his basement, gripping his crossbow tightly in his hand as he aimed at the targets, holding his hand steady. The arrows seemed to hit only on the very edge of the bulls eye point, and he growled in frustration, putting it down. 

“God damnnit, why is this so hard for me?!” Stiles swore, setting the crossbow on the table, rubbing his head in annoyance. “Those Argents and Uncle Nick always seem to make this look like it’s fricken easy as hell!” 

“Why don’t you ask Allison to help you?” His dad called from the staircase, drinking a cup of hot coffee. Stiles looked up at him, sighing slightly. “She’s such a goody-goody. She would never skip school to help me with this.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask though.” The Sheriff pointed out, raising an eyebrow at his son. “I think she’d jump at the chance for any bonding with you.”

“I guess so..” Stiles murmured, pulling his cell phone out and dialing Allison’s number. It should be first hour passing time right now. His father headed back up stairs as Stiles pressed the phone to his ear, waiting for the raven-haired girl to pick hers up. 

_“Hello?”_

“Hey Allison, it’s me Stiles! I sort of maybe really need your help.”

_“What for?”_

“Just… it’s important alright? I promise you! So will you please oh please skip school and do this one thing for me?”

_“I… I don’t know Stiles… I don’t really like to skip school and…”_

“I’ll tell you embarresing stories about Scott from when he was a kid.”

Allison didn't say anything for a long time, but finally a whoosh of air could be heard on the other side of the conversation.

_“…. Deal.”_

“Meet you at my house then!”

Stiles grinned, and hung up. That had actually been a lot easier then he’d thought!

\---------

The doorbell rang about 15 minutes later, and the teen scrambled up the steps to answer it before his father did. He pulled it open, smiling widely at Allison. “Heyyy! Thanks for coming! I really, really appreciate it.”

Allison nodded, looking a bit awkward as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, rubbing her upper arm as she looked around his house. She hadn’t really come to his house much, only one time before, and that was about it. And only then, Stiles realized, she had been dropping Scott off.

Actually, only Derek, Scott, and Lydia ever bothered to come to his house. That sparked a bit of annoyance inside of Stiles chest, but he stamped it into oblivion as he led Allison into the basement. He didn’t have time today to think about friendship issues. The pack weren’t obligated to visit his home, or to hang out there. Though Stiles wondered when they were going to go around scent marking the humans in the pack homes. Derek would start pushing that after the next murder he bet.

“So what do you need from me exactly?” Allison asked as they descended the stairs to the basement. 

“I need you to help me with my shooting.” Stiles stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her. Here is where he would have to feign weakness. “I’m tired of being the only one that can’t protect themselves, alright? So since you’re so good with a crossbow… I was hoping you could give me some pointers. I’m pretty good with it but… I need to be able to get bulls eyes. “

Allison looked thoughtful as she looked at him. “Did you talk to Derek about this?”

“No way. I know he’s the Alpha and all that shit but he doesn’t get to decide things about my life and how I live it. If I want to learn how to shoot like a Argent, he can’t stop me.” Stiles’s eyes are burning with passion as he spoke, looking strong. “You know, when Derek saw the guy he practically glared fire into his soul?” 

Allison’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of Ricker, and he knows she wants to ask the questions on her mind. _That is he gay? Is he seeing this guy? Is Derek jealous of him?_ Which was ridiculous since Derek had no attraction towards Stiles at all.

“I’m bisexual, no I’m not seeing him, and Derek’s just being an overprotective werewolf.” He says it all in one sentence, breathing out heavily. Allison blinks, and nods slightly at him.

“Okay then. Lets get started I guess.” Stiles’s face breaks out in a grin, and he nodded, scrambling to get his crossbow ready.

\---------

Hours passed, and Stiles soon learned that Allison was a grueling teacher. Hell, she was even worse then Nick! She was like hell unleashed with a bow too, and Stiles just watched with wide eyes as she shot arrows through out the training session. Her methods however, had results. 

Stiles could now get 3 out of 5 bulls eyes, where before he could only get 1 and that was by dumb luck only really. He felt pride well up in his chest whenever he got one with skill alone, and Allison would laugh as he did his little victory dance. 

It was nice to be doing something with the girl his best friend was in love with. He and Allison were friends of course, but they weren’t close to each other. Stiles just sort of talked to her when he needed to and sometimes she would make him laugh or him to her. Now he could see why Scott could love her. She really was a beautiful person on the inside. 

Even though she got Scott in way to much trouble and was way too useless in fights for a long time. Though now she obviously wasn’t, with her display of archery skills today. Stiles had known she was good with a crossbow before but now… holy hell she should be in the Olympics or something! She would probably get the gold medal. Stiles would bet on that one hundred percent. 

“Alright, Stiles, lets stop before you pull a muscle!” Allison laughed as he let out his last arrow, watching it as it hit the center of the target once more. Stiles lowered the crossbow, panting slightly form exertion. He wiped sweat from his forehead, making a face at the amount. He looked at Allison again, and noted that like Lydia, she seemed not to have a single friggin sweat gland.

So very unfair.

“You showed a lot of improvement Stiles! I’m proud!” She moved from her perch, giving him a hug, not even seemingly bothered by how sweaty he was. He hugged back a bit awkwardly, grinning a bit. He pulled away, running fingers through his hair.

“Thanks for this Allison.”

“Your welcome. You still owe me stories about Scott, so don’t forget!” She reminded, and another laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head.

“I would never forget, don’t worry.” Stiles told her, nodding. “If you don’t mind me asking… how’d you guys get back together? After the whole Kanima thing, you seemed pretty adamant about not being with him.” 

Allison sighed, looking away as she shrugged. “It just happened again. I kept on fighting it and fighting it through June until in July we spotted eachother at the lake during the fireworks on the 4th. We watched them together and during one of them, he just leaned over and kissed me.” She laughs. “Sounds really cheesy, but I loved it.”

Stiles grinned. “That’s awesome.” He stretched, then looked back at her. “How about you come over again sometime and we can sit out and have story time?”

Allison paused for a moment, her smile becoming softer now. 

“That sounds really nice actually Stiles. I would love to.” Her voice is kind, and Stiles can hear legitimate affection for him in her words. “Maybe Erica and Lydia can come over too. It can be like a girls night.”

“Are you implying I’m feminine?” He mocked hurt in his voice, fluttering his eyelashes at her. 

“I don’t know, am I?” She raises her eyebrow now, crossing her arms over her chest. “I think I might be!”

“I’ll have you know that I am very manly, Ms. Argent!”

“I’ll see you as manly when you get 5 out of 5.” 

“Is that a challenge for me?”

“Yes it is.” Allison leaned forward now, eyes gleaming. “You do it and I’ll announce to the whole school even that you are the manliest thing to walk on the face of this planet.”

Stiles stuck out his hand, looking determined, as he looked her dead in the eye. 

“I accept your challenge then!”

They shook hands, and the deal was made. 

After Allison left, Stiles did some training with some other weapons such as his wooden sword and knife. He practiced with the straw dummies, hitting and slashing as Monroe and Nick had taught him. Stiles kept it up until he felt like his limbs were going to fall off, and added to the exhaustion he had from earlier, he felt like he needed a long good relaxing drink at his favorite club.

So Stiles ended up going to the Jungle, but as soon as he got through the door, he froze as his eyes locked on the familiar figure by the bar.

It was Ricker. He knew that, by now he knew how the other male dressed. But he was talking with a girl, who looked like she was here because her gay friend dragged her. She was looking at him like he was everything to her, like he was her god. A lot of people around them were looking at him like that actually, he noted, licking their lips and sending the female jealous looks. This didn’t ultimately bother Stiles, he and Ricker were more friends then anything. Yeah, they shared kisses and hickeys sometimes, but they weren’t exclusive or even doing anything majorly sexual. It was just the expressions of everyone around the handsome male that was putting him off.

It wasn’t until Ricker’s face transformed to the likeness of a goat that he realized what exactly what was going on, and his body grew numb.

Ricker was the god damned Ziegevolk. He clenched his hands into fists, feeling sick. This was the man he’d been coming to for advice, for friendship, for hot make out sessions to take his mind of things. This was the man who was kidnapping girls and boys, impregnating and breaking them into pieces. His father had found a couple of the Ziegevolk’s victims in a town up north, the girls heavily pregnant and the guy’s minds shattered. 

Stiles covered his mouth, body shaking with rage. How could he be deceived like this? He wanted to rush over there, and cut the guy’s throat, but restrained himself.

He’d be blasted with those pheromones and be lost immediately. He may even become one of Ricker’s victims. Though, he seemed to be mostly a pet project for him, something to take his mind off things as he searched for his new victim. Or, a more sickening thought crossed his brain. Ricker could be toying with him. He could be trying to get Stiles to like him and then when Stiles finally did… He would do it. He’d use him like the others.

Stiles escaped the club quickly after that, gritting his teeth as he re-entered his jeep, pressing his face into the steering wheel. 

Then he began to plan for what he would have to do next to catch Ricker and get him behind bars once and for all.

**End Chapter 6**

  
  
Chapter 8: Demise  
Summary:

Stiles acts on the Ricker situation

  
  
End Notes:

Fun fact, did you know Ricker’s name was supposed to be Arnold? It got changed because a friend of mine is nicknamed that and she did NOT want to be compared to a serial rapist.

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 7  
-

Stiles sighed slightly as he rubbed his eyes, slamming his bedroom door closed. Ricker. Fucking Ricker was the guy kidnapping people. He turned around from his door, then let out a yelp, glaring instantly.

“Dude. Seriously, I think everyone in the pack is getting tired of you popping up in our bedrooms. At least through the window.”

“Like your dad would let me in through the front door. I think you forgot that your dad arrested me for suspected murder.” Derek reminds him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I need you to do some research for me.”

“Research on what?”

“On the Grimm brothers.” Stiles feels his heart freeze for a moment, body tensing at the word Grimm, but forced himself to relax before Derek was able to notice. “The Grimm brothers huh? The ones that wrote all those fairy tales?”

“There not fairy tales Stiles. Everything they have ever written is a real thing.” Was Derek really alerting Stiles to the presence of Grimm’s first? Stiles thought he would tell the other pack members first… Or did Derek think that they couldn’t handle it? A small flicker of pride in himself popped up in Stiles. This just proved that he was way more levelheaded then the rest of the pack. Well, besides Allison and Lydia. 

“Wait so, the Grimm brothers stories are true?”

“Yeah. Grimm’s in our time are descended from them directly, or at least from the brothers. Most… non-humans like me think it’s a curse that a witch put on them. To see the monsters they pretended to hunt. Now their like the ultimate hunters. They hunt everything there is.” Derek picked a baseball up from Stiles desk, back turned to the other. “And there’s one in town. He killed the Alpha in the warehouse. The one you confirmed as Joshua Michaels.”

Stiles ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes. “Alright. Why do you need me to research their ancestors though?” 

“I need you to follow their family tree. See what line we could be dealing with.” Derek told him. “See who moved here from the bloodlines. It’ll be difficult, but you can manage. It’s important. If this Grimm is descended from the older brother, then everything could get a lot worse.”

Stiles’s nodded, having no intention of looking it up. “Okay… Have you told the others about this?”

“No. They wouldn’t get it. I almost told Scott, but he’s… blabby.” Derek looked back at Stiles. “I don’t want to risk him telling the rest when we don’t know which one it is yet. If it turns out like I think it is, and the pack decides they can deal with it without the proper preparation… it could become a massacre.”

“You’ll tell them after right?” Stiles voice sounds serious now, and he meets Derek’s gaze. Derek nodded. “As soon as you find out.”

“Alright. I’ll research it. As long as you stop using my window.” A growl escaped Derek’s mouth, and Stiles just gave him a look, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not a big request! My dad doesn’t think you’re a murderer anymore. You could just say that your helping me with a project that has to do with the history of the Hale land.”

The larger male just stands there for a moment, watching Stiles closely, before a defeated sigh escapes his lips. “Fine, whatever. Just do the fucking research.” Then he turns to go out the window, pauses, then turns right back around and goes out Stiles’s bedroom door and down the steps. Stiles grins ear to ear, shaking his head. 

\------

“Never thought I’d see the day where fucking Derek Hale did what I wanted. Must be a miracle.” He murmured, a giggle escaping his lips as he sat down on his bed, running fingers through his short hair. Then he sobered from his glee, thoughts focusing on the threat of Derek telling the rest of the pack.

He couldn’t let them find out. His uncle would be so pissed at him. It had barely been 2 months since he got back! The pack discovering he was a Grimm would just screw everything up. His friendships for one, would never be the same. 

Because eventually, if they found out there was a Grimm, and they found out what it was, they would start tracking it. He was careful, but he knew he’d slip up, and then they would find him. They would know he was the person that would kill them if they did something bad.

Plus the pack was a liability to his current case. Catch Ricker and teach him a bit of a lesson. 

Thinking of Ricker just made his mood descent even more. 

He’d have to mix something to overcome the stench of his pheromones. The instant Ricker found out he was a Grimm; he’d defiantly use them on him. Stiles couldn’t afford to be enamored by his scent, because then like all the others, he’d be a goner. Monroe had told him how he’d scented one once, and nearly had bought him a drink because of his scent. It had been funny at the time but... now it sort of horrified Stiles. The guy could have raped his pseudo uncle if he’d been his target easily. It wouldn’t have mattered that Monroe was a Blutbad, he would have just followed everything the Ziegevolk said.

Luckily that one had only been after women. Ricker seemed to want to fuck anything that was attractive and was bipedal. He was more dangerous then the one his uncle had taken down. 

Stiles pulled the small kit he had under his bed. He pulled out mint, heliotrope, konjac, and a corpse flower. With the hilt of his knife, he ground it all into a paste, nose wrinkling at the foul stench. Okay, this should override the worst affects of the pheromones, though of course, not all of it. Some of it could be absorbed through skin so… He’d have to wear clothing over most of his skin. Longs sleeves, gloves, and a scarf… maybe even a ski mask if it seemed necessary. 

Stiles refused to become some Ziegevolk’s fuck toy. Especially Ricker’s, who was one, messed up sick asshole. He’d beat him to hell and back and rescue the guy’s kidnapped victims. 

\------

**(Ricker POV)**

_hey ricker! wanna meet up?_ –Stiles

The text from Stiles surprised Ricker to say the least, as he sat in his car outside the jungle, reading over the words. The two never really texted each other much, just to find out if the other was going to be at the Jungle. Ricker had been waiting for this moment. When Stiles wanted to see him outside of the club. A small grin spread across his lips.

 _Sure. Where exactly?_ –Ricker

\-------

**(Stiles POV)**

Stiles zipped his hoodie up in his Jeep, breathing out slowly as he gripped his taser, calming his nerves. He was going to shoot the other with it on the bear setting, and then he’d tie him up with some rope from his car. Then well…

Stiles didn’t really know what he would do then. He didn’t know if he should turn Ricker in, torture him for info or a confession… or just leave him somewhere to die. He didn’t think he could really go through a torture session, but the more he thought about leaving him somewhere to die, the more appealing it became. He knew it was a bit gruesome to think about doing that to someone, but Ricker deserved it honestly. Breeders were sick creatures, one of the worst of Wessen. 

And Stiles was getting a sick feeling in his stomach. He had a feeling that Beacon Hills wasn’t the first place the Breeder had gone to wreak havoc. His uncles first one had been stationed at an Inn, and had been there for quite some time, but Ricker had only been in Beacon Hills for a couple months. 

A reminder to himself to look up past mass cases of serial rape in towns located in or around California. He needed to see the true extent of Ricker’s horror.

Steadying himself once more, he shoved his taser in his pocket, keeping his hand there as he stepped out of the vehicle. He’d told Ricker to meet him at the cliff outside of time, named ‘make out hill’ locally for it being a popular spot to get down and dirty. Scott and Allison had even come here, as well as most of the pack. Tonight however, it was empty. School nights did that.

Ricker’s outline could be seen by the wooden railing the city council had put up years ago, leaning forward as he looked out across Beacon Hill’s, waiting for Stiles to arrive. Stiles had lied in his text a couple minutes ago that he had sent once he knew Ricker was here already. He’d said he’d be a bit late, so hopefully the other wouldn’t be on the look out right now for him. 

Slowly he approached, gripping the taser tightly, aiming it at his back. Ricker must have heard something, because he turned around to look at Stiles.

And that’s when he fired. The taser hit Ricker full on in the chest, and he let out a scream of pain, body spastically twitching as the high voltage ran through him. His face transformed, body shaking as Stiles drew close.

“That’s for the guys and gals back home.” He hissed as he knelt by the others collapsed body, the other still shaking. “Didn’t expect me to be a Grimm, huh you asshole.” The guys eyes widened for a moment, a look of anger flashing, before his eyes rolled up and he fell into unconsciousness. Stiles felt a sense of sick pleasure in knowing that the other had felt that little bit of horror wash through him when he saw his face and realized what he was.

He quickly pulled the tasers needles out of the other, shoving the whole thing back in his pocket as Stiles jogged back to his jeep and got the rope. Running back, he tied the others limbs together tightly, making sure the knots were as good as they were going to get. He didn’t want the escaping, did he?

With difficulty, he dragged Ricker to his car, pushing him into the passenger seat, a bit of sweat rolling down his forehead. Holy crap was this asshole heavy. Did he eat rocks before coming here or something? 

After he was secured there, Stiles drove away, looking for a suitable place to drop the other. Somewhere he wouldn’t be found by the pack or by humans. He was about to drive all the way out of town to drop him when he passed by the city dump, and an idea sparked in his mind at the sight of the piles of trash and cars.

Stiles pulled over to the dump, and dragged Ricker out, going through a hole in the fence to get inside. He wandered about, dragging him, until he found a pile in the back. He dropped the other there, scooping the disgusting trash over his body, only leaving a bit of his nose visible. He could die here. He’d slowly rot with garbage, where he belonged. 

More satisfaction rolled through him as he turned and walked away, wiping dirt from his hands onto his jeans. He’d have to do a load of laundry when he got home, he absently thought, not even noticing that he had left Ricker in range of a old rusty knife. 

A knife that could easily be reached once Ricker was awake.

And that could very easily cut his bonds. 

**End Chapter 7**

  
  
Chapter 9: Revenge At It's Sickest  
Summary:

Lydia meets a stranger on the road.

  
  
End Notes:

Before anyone asks, **NO this story will not have rape in it. It may have some bad touch, but it won’t go far.**

Poor Stiles. But really, logic over emotion. First rule of Vulcan 101 man.

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 8  
-

Lydia sighed slightly as she examined her hair in the mirror of her car, one hand on the steering wheel as she made her way down the back road. She had just come from having her hair done, taking a road off from the highway when traffic began building up. Being impatient as she was, it seemed like a good idea. 

Though now she found herself not really knowing where she was exactly in the vicinity of Beacon Hills. She may be a genius, but that didn’t mean she had a map stored in her head of every road in the town and outlying areas. 

“Isn’t this the road that goes past the dump?” The strawberry blond murmured as she looked back at the stretch of gravel in front of her. That was good then. She vaguely remembered that the road led back to a road near Make Out Hill, which meant she would be able to make her way back into town.

Victory for her then. 

Lydia had almost missed the guy when she first neared him. He was crouched over low, body slumped as he stumbled along. When she got closer and actually realized it was a person, she slowed down a bit. 

When the guy collapsed on the road, she jerked to a stop and got out of her car in a rush, running to his side. He was caked in some foul smelling crap, and his face was pale as a ghost. Lydia pressed two fingers to his neck, feeling for his pulse, trying to ignore the horrible smell that was coming off of him. 

She let out a breath of relief when she felt a steady pulse under her fingers, pulling her hand back and wiping it on the sparse grass next to her. Sitting back on her heels, she rubbed her chin, then went back to her car, pulling a old picnic blanket from the back from when she and Allison had gone to the reservation for a small picnic with each other. She laid it out on the back seat, AND then with a lot difficulty, she got the other in the back, laid out there. 

“Wonder what happened…” The girl murmured to herself, getting back in the drivers seat as she took off again, going a bit faster now. She didn’t know what was exactly wrong with him, so it seemed like a good idea to get to the hospital sooner then later. 

“Mnnn…” A groan escaped the stranger in the backseat, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see him lift an arm to rub his eyes. She noted that faint burns of some sort were on his wrists, like someone had tied his wrists with rope. 

Odd.  
“Hey, how you feelings?” She asked once he began sitting up, slowing the car down, until she pulled over completely. Lydia turned in her seat to face him, taking in his disheveled appearance. 

“I feel like shit.” It took a while for him to respond, and she felt a small snort escape her lips.

“I wonder why. It’s not like you were passed out on the side of the road covered in muck.” She hummed; glad to see that the other wasn’t as bad off as she had previously thought. “What happened to you?”

“Ah, some guy decided to do a joke on me, that went a bit… far.” Another snort escaped Lydia, who quickly covered it up with a cough.

“Maybe just a bit.” 

“You mind ah, dropping me off at my house?” He asked, rubbing the back of his dirt caked head. 

“Instead of the hospital?”

“Instead of the hospital.” He confirmed, nodding at her. 

“Alright then. Just let me call my friend Stiles and tell him I’m going to be late then I’ll get you home.” The dirty male seemed to go still at the mention of Stiles, eyes focusing on her a lot more sharply.

“Stiles?”

“It’s not his real name.” She told him, assuming that he was intrigued by the odd name. “He’s gone by it since well… forever.”

The muck caked guy sat up more, leaning closer. “Oh no, I know Stiles. You a friend of his?”

Lydia blinked, and nodded. “Yeah, he’s like a brother to me. He had the biggest of crushes on me for a long time too.” Her tongue feels loose in her mouth, as a sweet smelling scent washes over her, making her pupils dilate as she focuses on the other. He had suddenly gotten a lot more attractive to her…

“I’m Lydia.” Her voice is dazed mouth slack slightly. Shes looking at the other like he’s her whole world, and in the sane corner of her mind, she’s screaming at the rest of her head to get away from him. That he’d done something to her. He just grinned at her, looking vicious as he moved so his face was barely a inch away.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lydia. I’m Ricker. Why don’t you tell me more about Stiles?”

Lydia just nodded, completely his slave now as she succumb to his powers.

\---------

**(Stiles POV)**

Stiles swirled in his chair by his desk, tablet in hand as he read through some local reports, looking for his next case as he waited for Lydia to show up. She’d texted him saying she’d be late since she was helping a friend out, and not to worry. She’d also told him that the place he recommended for her to get her hair done at was absolutely amazing, which just made Stiles grin with pride. He’d worked hard to find a place worthy of treating her strawberry blond curls. 

The Grimm may not like her like that any more, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the beauty of a girl Lydia was. 

So far nothing had caught his eye in the newer cases, so it was nice to know he would be able to focus on the Alpha pack problem now. He’d have to start cracking down on them soon. He couldn’t have them going around killing people, could he? 

He set the tablet back down on the desk and got to his feet, stretching as he then flopped down on his bed, burying his face in one of his pillows. A long whoosh of air escaped his lungs, defenses down as he relaxed. He heard footsteps outside, and sat up. 

"Hey Lydia!” He greeted, smiling as someone opened the door. 

But it wasn’t just Lydia. 

Ricker was behind her, hand on the back of her neck, pushing her into the room. She has this expression on her face, as she turned around and faced Ricker, eyes glued to his face. He smirked slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed at Stiles, who sat frozen. 

“You know, when you leave someone to die slowly and get buried by trash, you should really make sure there’s nothing sharp lying near them that they can cut their bonds.” He pushes Lydia into Stiles’s empty chair by his desk, leaning in close over Stiles. “You shouldn’t let emotions cloud your judgment." 

Stiles now had a hand clamped over his nose. He could feel the pheromones in the air, touching his skin and making his body warm. Thank god the stuff he had put under his nose yesterday was still strong enough to make it that he didn’t want to be a mindless dog. It had faded enough though that the attraction he had once felt to Ricker had enhanced a little more, making ah, down there a bit more attentive. 

“What do you want?” He said, voice muffled by his hand. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ricker’s face is inches away now, his hands going on either side of the teenager. “I want you Stiles. Before you were just something to distract myself with. A hot piece of ass that I could trick and break down. But now… you being a Grimm… It just makes it so much better. The Grimm getting fucked over by the Wessen for once. 

“What makes you think I’ll let you?” Stiles hissed, anger snapping in his golden brown eyes. Ricker lets a laugh escape his lips. 

“Because if you don’t, your little friend over there will become my new bitch.” 

Stiles stomach plummeted as the other confirmed what he feared. More anger burned in his chest, his pupils dilating. “You don’t even fucking touch her.” He hissed through his fingers, shaking slightly. The other just smirked. 

“I won’t if you let yourself be mine. I’ll parade you around town on my arm and around all your friends, and whenever they ask, you’ll just say you and I are so in love and happy. You’ll lie to them about everything, and when I finally break you, no one will notice because you’ll put on the mask you’ll have built up until your screaming on the inside for someone. Something, to notice you.” He strokes the side of Stiles face, rubbing the skin. “I won’t even use my smell on you. I’ll let you be aware of everything your doing.” 

Slowly he pulled away, turning around to look at Lydia. 

“So… If I do this…” Stiles sat up slowly, still covering his mouth, though it was probably useless now, expression wary. “You… you promise to leave Lydia alone? You won’t mess with Grimm business?" 

“I promise.” He looked over his shoulder, eyes glinting. “I swear on my life.” 

Stiles breathed out slowly, and lowered his hand so it lay limply in his lap. 

“Alright. Just… leave my friends alone and I will.” A triumphant look crossed Ricker’s face and he nodded. “Good. Just so you know, you tell anyone, you break our agreement? I track down every female in your life and use her like the girls in my basement. I’ll impregnate them and leave them for dead.” Stiles nodded, understanding as his stomach rolled, feeling sick. He wanted to throw up. 

“I… I understand.” 

Ricker grinned even more, and walked back over to Lydia, taking her hand and making her stand. “I’ll get the pretty lady home then. See you tomorrow, my new lover." 

Then he disappeared out the door with the girl, leaving Stiles in his room. Once the other had closed the door, he let out a breath, hands shaking as he hugged his shoulders. God how could he have been such a god damned idiot? He should have been more careful! Nick had warned him not to get cocky- not to let emotions cloud his judgment. He had to be like the Vulcan, putting logic over emotion. 

Stiles had failed him as well as his mom. 

And that thought was the one that had him rushing to the bathroom with his hand over his mouth as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the sink. It could have just been the exposure to the pheromones when they weren’t working exactly with him, or just his mind telling him to throw up everything because he was now some sicko’s plaything. Whatever it was, it had him weak kneed as he gripped the white porcelain, face pale and sweaty. 

“Fuck my life.” He whispered, shaking his head slightly with a choked laugh, wiping his lips as the taste of acid rested on the back of his tongue. “Just fuck it all to hell.” 

**End Chapter 8**

  
  
Chapter 10: Blood On Your Lips  
Summary:

The Finale of the Ricker arc

  
  
Notes:

A/N:  
Can you guys comment time and tell me WHY you like this fic? Like what makes it good, details you love, etc? I would really appreciate it! It's to prove a point to a repeated flamer on FF about this story.

  
  
End Notes:

(1) Hexenbeast are the equivalent to witches, really.

It’s an actually idea that Grimm blood can take away any Wesen’s power in the show, though it’s not confirmed as of yet. 

So Ricker didn’t actually rape anyone. He just used his pheromones to kidnap people so he could surround himself with love. He got a bit power hungry and well… it got to him. I went back and edited the scenes with his perspective in chapter 4 to make it fit more. 

Rickers arc is now officially finished, so now it’s time to move onto the next big problem. Stiles and Derek shall bond finally, and realize that they do have things in common.

I made a reference to an anime that I watched a while ago in here, called Monster by Naoki Urasawa. It’s really good, with lots of mystery and plot twists. If you like detective anime’s, it’s one to watch. 

Danny’s sort of being like Monroe in this, huh?

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 9  
-

 

The Grimm of Beacon Hills

Chapter 9

Stiles trudged through the halls of the school with a heavy heart in his chest, but still stood tall as he slid through the crowds. What he had agreed with Ricker yesterday was suffocating him, the guilt weighing down as he thought about what he did. He had yet to see Lydia in the hallways yet so… He was assuming that Ricker had her somewhere as insurance.

After he had thrown up, Stiles had manned up a bit, pulling himself out of the hole of self-pity he'd dug for himself. With Ricker gone and his sickly sweet smell fading from the house, he'd been able to think clearly. Ricker obviously hadn't counted for the fact that Lydia was in a pack. He had assumed that Lydia was just a normal human. Though, the longer she was in his captivity, the more of a chance he would find out about the pack.

Derek would notice soon too, that Lydia was gone. Which meant Stiles had to act quickly in order to finish this on his own. The more he waited in agony for Ricker to make him do something, the less patience he had. He didn't really want to be his 'lover' as Ricker had put it. It grossed him out enough that he'd kissed him. He didn't want Ricker touching him like that, attempting to break him into pieces. He didn't need any bad-touch from the asshole.

Ricker probably had some disgusting disease too. What else would push him to become a Breeder? He was attractive enough, yet he was doing this to all these girls and boys. And the guy was what, 18? Did he want to be the world's biggest teen dad?

What was his reason?

Stiles just sighed, running fingers through his hair as he spotted Danny, the next part of his plan.

"Hey, Danny!" He called, jogging to catch up to the goalie, grabbing his wrist. "Can I talk to you? It's kind of important, I promise."

"If it's about hacking something-"

"No its not. C'mon, lets go somewhere more private." He pulled him into an empty classroom, locking the door behind him as he leaned against it, breathing in deeply. Well, here it went. Time to tell the first person outside of his family what he was.

"I know what you are. You're a Wildermann, I'm a Grimm. No, I'm not going to grab a pitchfork and kill you."

Danny just stared at him, opening and closing his mouth for a moment. "Y-you? You're a Grimm?!"

"I just said that right?" He mumbled. "Anyway, going on, there's a Ziegevolk Breeder in town, he's kidnapping girls and guys, being a rapist and everything, and he has Lydia.' Stiles swallowed the knot that built in his throat. "Because he wants me. I sort of tasered him and left him for dead in a dump to starve or get crushed, but kind of got clouded by rage and shit and didn't make sure he could get anything pointy. Lydia found him somehow, he used his freaky scent powers, and now she's his slave. To make sure she's not one of the people to get pregnant, he wants me to be like his boyfriend-"

Stiles took a deep breath of air, and then continued with the flurry of words.

"-and wants to break me into pieces. He wants to take a sick pleasure in my demise."

The Hawaiian stared at him, mouth opening and closing, then his expression cleared, and one of horror crossed.

"You agreed?!"

"I can't let her get raped Danny! I would have done it with anyone, Ricker just made it… more personal. Humans before yourself, yah know?" The Grimm looked away from the other, gripping his arm. "Trust me, it makes me as sick as it makes you. I even barfed after he left."

"Just… fuck Stiles. That's bad. Really bad." Danny frowned. "That's just… sick…"

"I know, alright?" It comes out snappier then he intended, and his face turns apologetic immediately after. "Sorry. Nerves are on edge. He sort of drugged me yesterday so…"

Danny nodded, rubbing his face slightly as he thought. "So this summer when you left?..." He asked, looking back at him.

"I was with my Uncle. He's a Grimm too. My dad wanted me to get proper training so something like this wouldn't happen and well… Guess that didn't really work, huh?"

"Why don't you call him in on this then? Stiles you could get killed!"

"Danny, I'm not going to go running to my Uncle! I can fix this, I know I can." His tone is defiant and strong, his head held high as his hands curled into fists at his side, nails digging into his palms. "This is my first case. It's the one I'm going to remember forever as the one that made me into a true Grimm!"

"Stiles, if this is a thing of pride-"

"Danny. Please. Just, don't, okay?" He breathed out slowly. "Anyway… I need your help. Wildermann are good at ripping doors off hinges and running, according to my uncle. I need you to get to Lydia and the others while I deal with the Ziegevolk."

The tan goalie just stares at him, shaking his head slightly. "I can't Stiles. I can't help you get killed…"

"Danny, I'm not going to die. Trust me." He gave him a reassuring grin. "He can't do anything to me if I prepare correctly." The Grimm looked back out the small sliver of window of the door, expression going slightly soft. "Don't you want to be a hero?"

"Not everyone can be, Stiles."

\-----------

Stiles sat in his jeep next to Danny as he pulled his leather gloves on, trying to calm his aching nerves. Danny was fidgeting as well, nose crinkling at the paste under his nose. That made Stiles crack a smile as he punched the other lightly in the shoulder.

"Thanks for this Danny."

"No problem. That pack of yours would kill me if they ever found out I let you go in and do this alone."

"You know about the pack then?"

"Dude. They shift in Lacrosse all the time. I'm pretty sure the whole Wesen community of Beacon Hills knows." Danny snorted slightly, sighing as he looked up at the roof of the car, somber again. "Has their Alpha told them about the others yet?"

"Nah. He's going to I think, after ah… a problem that's been happening is fixed." He coughed a bit, not really knowing if he should inform the other of looming danger. "They don't even know about me being a Grimm yet." Stiles pulled his knife out, examining the blade, then shoved it back into his boot, opening his car door. "We got to continue on foot from here. He knows what my car looks like."

Danny nodded, and left the car, closing the door quietly as he moved to walk next to Stiles. "You sure this stuff will work?"

"Yesterday it had faded a crap ton and still helped a little." He said simply, shrugging. "With this amount we should be fine." I hope, he added in his head, sighing slightly. The rest of the way to Ricker's home in the woods was made in silence, Stiles having briefed Danny on what to do exactly when they got there. Stiles would go after Ricker, going in first while Danny snuck inside and got to the basement. He'd free the victims as Stiles hopefully led Ricker into the woods and away from them.

Stiles was almost positive it would work. Though, it was more a half chance. At least this time he wouldn't be leaving Ricker alive, so the option for him to get fucked over like before was gone. He'd kill Ricker tonight before it even got close for that to happen.

The house came into view after another 10 minutes walking, and the two ducked behind a large tree, scoping out the building a bit.

"You ready?" Stiles murmured, looking at the other. Danny nodded back at him, body tense, and ready to run towards the door once Stiles came out with Ricker.

The Grimm took a deep breath in, and darted out, running as quietly as he could to the door. Adrenaline began to pump through him, pupils dilating as he yanked his knife out of his boot. Trying the door handle, he found it locked, and shoved the knife in the gap between the wall and the door, pulling it up to quickly unlock it.

Ricker should really invest in getting better locks.

Stiles got into the house, then he scratched the knife loudly on the side of the door, making wood splinter slightly with the force. "RICKER!" He yelled, standing tall as he waited, brandishing the knife. Footsteps were heard, and there he was. The blond monster stared at him, blue eyes wide, and rage building in his those orbs.

"Stiles, what are you doing here?" His voice is low, eyes trained on the blade in Stiles's hand. "We had an agreement didn't we?" The blue orbs looked back at the Grimm's face, digging into him.

"You know, you should really make sure, when your making an 'agreement', that the other party isn't drugged." Stiles said with a low voice. "Lydia isn't the only person you have, and I'm not letting you keep any of them." Ricker's voice comes out as a low, dry laugh, as he shook his head.

"So Grimm's don't honor a agreement? I shouldn't be surprised."

"Nothing was honorable in it in the first place." Stiles lunged, slashing at the other as he avoided. "I'm nto going to be your sick pet. I'm not going to wear a fucking mask for you. I'm not going to lie to my friends!" He lunged again, and this time purposefully left the door open to the other. Ricker took the bait, running out the door quickly. Stiles followed, gripping the blade as they went into the woods. That was Danny's

"Just give up now! You know you can't get away!" He yelled, jumping over a log as he began to get closer to the other.

"You don't know until you try!"

Well, Ricker obviously hadn't tried hard enough, because Stiles lunged again, and tackled him to the ground. They rolled and twisted, metal flashing and fists moving, before coming to a rest with Stiles sitting on Ricker's hips, knife held to his throat.

"Stay still, or I will kill you." He whispered, digging it into his flesh, just enough to make a red line.

"Go ahead! I won't care!" The Ziegevolk spat out, trying to escape from under Stiles. "It's the only way your going to stop me!"

Stiles paused then, and a glint came into his eyes. No, he had a better plan for Ricker. "I have something else on my mind. You've surely heard of the stories of Wesen having their creature ripped from them by Grimm's, right?" Ricker's face paled to a ghostly white, and he began shaking his head.

"No don't- please! Don't, I'm sorry!"

Stiles ignored him, and lifted his wrist, taking the knife and cutting a deep gash, then pressed the wound to the others lips.

"My uncle told me about this. How he stripped a Hexenbeast (1) of her powers by feeding her his blood. He kissed her to do it of course, and she bit his lip, but it worked. He then found out in the books that it worked with all Wesen. That his blood was the ultimate punishment. Being stripped from everything that has defined you and shaped you…." Ricker's lips are firmly sealed, but Stiles pressed the bleeding wound closer, forcing his lips and teeth apart as the coppery blood flowed into his lips. Choked noises escaped him, as his mouth filled and filled… until finally, Ricker swallowed.

Stiles pulled his wrist away then, shoving his knife in his boot so he could put pressure on it, getting off of Ricker, and watching. He began to convulse after a moment, then his mouth opened with a blood-curdling scream, and a white mist began to escape, flowing out of his body. He writhed on the ground, shaking and arching, until finally he laid still.

He was human.

"I only wanted love…" Ricker mumbled, almost too quiet to hear, looking numb and shaken as he laid on the ground, blood dripping from his lips onto the dirt.

"Then you shouldn't have raped to get it."

\----------

Stiles tied Ricker to a tree, this time being careful to leave anything that could help him escape out of range, and went back to the house. He'd turn the broken man into his father when he got home. All of the kidnapped would vouch for the guilty sentence, and he'd be put in jail for life.

Danny was outside, with a total of 5 girls and 2 boys. They all looked dazed as they looked around, and Stiles could see the strawberry blonde girl among them, and began to ran. He grabbed Lydia and pulled her to his chest, stroking the back of her head as he breathed out heavily.

"Stiles…?" Her voice was dazed, her arms wrapped around his neck as she hugged him back.

"Yeah it's me Lydia. I'm here." He murmured in her ear, stroking her hair. He looked over at Danny, who was checking over the girls.

"That's… that's weird." He heard the other say, and he frowned, pulling away from Lydia.

"What is it?"

"They don't seem like they've been raped or anything…" Danny touched one of their cheeks, checking their eyes. "They weren't even in cages. They were in rooms, with beds… and they seemed… happy."

Stiles just stared, what Ricker said in the woods playing in his head.

He only wanted to be loved.

Ricker didn't even rape the girls. He wasn't a breeder. He was just a lonely guy with way to many problems. In the end Ricker had become corrupt and wrong and outright creepy, but on the inside… he was as love starved as everyone else on the planet. And when attacked by a Grimm, he'd snapped. His mind had been pulled to o taught, and he'd reacted violently, trying to break the threat before it broke him.

Instead, he had been the one to brake.

"C'mon Danny. Let's get them to the station." He said, shaking his head as he pulled his cell phone out, dialing his dad's number.

\-------

The police came and took the girls away about 30 minutes later. Stiles led his dad to the tied up Ricker, who had knocked himself unconscious trying to escape. They cleaned the blood from him, and then took him away to the station. All of the girls and boys, once out of their drugged state, all were going to help put him in jail. They hadn't been raped, but it had still been a traumatic experience for them. They'd put Lydia in Stiles's car, hiding her from the other cops.

Danny had clapped Stiles on the shoulder, saying that if he ever needed to talk about this stuff, he was here for him. Then he too had gone home, exhausted from the days events.

Now, Stiles and Lydia were in his room, sitting quietly and a bit awkwardly.

"I guess you want an explanation." He finally said, breathing out slowly. Lydia shook her head.

"No. Not yet." She looked him in the eye, reaching out to hold his hand. "You haven't told the pack yet. About whatever being a Grimm is, so you don't have to tell me yet. Even though I'm dying to know."

"So you remember me and him talking about it?"

She nodded. "It was like… a part of me was disconnected. Watching everything I did. But unable to control a single thing I did or said." A shiver raced up her spine. "I don't want to go through that again."

"You won't. I promise." He smiled wearily, standing. "C'mon, lets get you home. We have to think of a bullshit story to tell your parents."

**End Chapter 9**

  
  
Chapter 11: The Bird and The Wolf  
Summary:

Stiles remembers some things, and the next arc begins

  
  
End Notes:

The development of thee next arc has begun! Stiles’s mother’s death is really important actually, mostly the detail about her being headless. 

So yeah, since the Alpha pack hasn’t actually been in Teen Wolf yet, I’m just making up facts. I know one Alpha is named Kali, and she’s not supposed to be like this, but eh, in his she will. Once season 3 is done, I’ll go back and edit it eventually.

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 10  
-

_“Momma! Momma!” Stiles was running towards a beautiful brunette woman, tears in his eyes as he held up a little bird. “T-The bird, he fell!” He pointed back at a nest, and his mother kneeled by him, taking the bird from his small hands._

_“Oh no… he broke his wing…” She sighed, looking back at him. “C’mon, lets get him inside. We’ll tape his wing up and put him in a shoebox.” The littler body nodded tearfully, grabbing his mother’s empty hand and held it tightly, as she led him back into their house. Once inside, she set the little bird on a pillow, going to grab medical tape from the first aid kit in the laundry, Stiles sat by the bird’s side on the sofa, watching it with fear in his eyes. What if the bird died? He hadn’t meant_

_His mother returned, and gently wrapped the birds wing, stroking its head softly as she looked at her son, smiling. “We’ll just take care of him, won’t we Genim?” The child nodded quickly, wiping at his eyes._

_“Don’t tell Scott I was crying. Scott says 10-year-old boys don’t cry. He’d make fun of me.” He mumbled, looking away with a small flush on his small face. His mom grinned, kissing her sons head. “You can cry at any age dear. Don’t listen to Scott. I’ll have you know that I saw him with his mom yesterday, and he was bawling his eyes out.”_

_Stiles perked up at that, and looked up at his mother with wide eyes. “Really? He was?” She nodded, stroking hair from his eyes._

_“Really, he was.”_

_Before Stiles could say anything else, his dad walked in, and smiled at his son. “Sorry, I have to borrow your mom for a second.” Stiles gave his dad a grin, and nodded, turning back to look at the bird. His mother stood, and walked over. His parents spoke in hushed voices, and she nodded, sighing slightly. She looked over her shoulder at Stiles, walking back over._

_“Hey baby, momma has to go do something. You think you can take care of the bird?”_

_Stiles had frowned, and shook his head. “N-No! You have to stay and help mom! You need to show me how to feed him! And what to feed him!” His mom had laughed, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay for a little longer.”_

_Hours later she had left for the last time, because that night, Jane Stilinski was found dead in an alley, her head missing and the image of a scythe carved into her stomach. Cops made it out to be some sick ritual by Satanists, and that she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time._

_Stiles hadn’t cried. Stiles hadn’t cried until they began lowering the casket into the ground, and he’d thrown himself at the gravediggers, shaking his head._

_“No! No she’s not dead!”_

_His dad had to hold him back as he sobbed, releasing all of his tears as he collapsed into his arms._

_“I-It’s my fault, dad! It’s mine! I should have let her go! She wouldn’t have been late! She wouldn’t be dead!”_

\---------------

Stiles awoke from the memory with a start, sitting up at his desk sharply. He lifted a hand to touch his face, feeling wetness there.

He hadn’t dreamed about when his mom had died in a long time. Not since everything with Scott had started. Before that he had the dream once a month, replaying the incident in the back of his head over and over. 

It shook him up a little now, having this dream after Ricker’s arrest and the stripping of his Wesen. Like his mind was telling him that even though that everything seemed okay now, that it wasn’t.

‘Stop over analyzing this shit Stiles!’ The brunette thought, shaking his head as he pushed away from the desk, wiping his eyes with his shirt. ‘You need sleep. In a bed.’ When his stomach rumbled, he looked down, grimacing. ‘And food.’

Stiles stood up, and walked downstairs, scratching at his belly as he yawning again, composing himself for if his dad was down there. Sure enough, John was in front of the refrigerator, looking through it with a bit of a annoyed expression.

“I know you’ve been busy and all Stiles… but did you forget to go shopping for groceries?” His dad called over his shoulder, and Stiles felt his cheeks heat slightly in embarrassment, as he rubbed the back of his head.

‘Whoops. Probably should do that.”

“Yeah, since we’ve come to only having beer and cheese to eat.” The Sheriff closed the fridge, sighing as he grabbed an old banana from the fruit bowl on the island, unpeeling it and taking a large mouthful. Stiles was about to grab a apple to eat, when his dad walkie talkie went off.

“10-91V. Animal attack on South Hill, 5892 South west. Called in by wounded woman, loosing blood. Units 1-3 report.” Stiles eyes jerked up to his dad, eyes wide.

“Dad. 5892 is our neighbors!” 

\-----------

Stiles stood to the side, watching as the dead body of Mr. Richards was pulled away, his hysterical wife crying her eyes out, face torn apart and bleeding. The paramedics had to hold onto her and give her a sedative, knocking the woman out. Whatever she had seen that had attacked her and her husband, it had obviously driven her mad. 

Stiles had a pretty good idea of what that had been too. One of the Alpha’s must have transformed all the way into his form and attacked the two. For what purpose exactly… he had no idea. But knowing Derek, he’d soon call the pack to the house to talk about it. 

And right on time, his phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out, answering.

“Yo, Stilinski here.”

“Pack meeting!” That was Scott’s voice. “Derek wants you here! We’re going to confront the Alphas man!” He sounded afraid and excited at the same time, breathing heavily into the receiver. “Bring something to hit stuff with, like a bat or something!”

He hung up as quickly as he called, and Stiles shook his head with a small grin, turning around and jogging to his house to grab a bat as Scott had suggested. 

 

Stiles was the last to arrive at the Hale house, gripping the bat tight in his fingers as he strolled over, wearing a dark brown hoodie, zipped up tight against the autumn air. The wolves turned towards him, then paused, some looking a bit confused. Stiles blinked, raising an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You… smell weird. All sweet and crap. Like Lydia does right now.” Scott murmured, leaning close to sniff Stiles. The Grimm looked over his shoulder at Derek, who looked actually a bit worried, as he too scented the air again. 

‘Worred because he can smell Ricker still on me and Lydia.’ Stiles thought to himself, shaking his head inwardly. ‘How come they never pointed this out before?’ Though he knew the answer to that too. The scents of the club had buried Ricker’s scent the first time. After that, none of them had seen him right after he’d gone to the club to see him. 

Probably would have helped like 10 times more if they had though. Stiles would have been able to figure out who it was way easier then.

“Ah, when me and Lydia went jogging yesterday, I took a shower at her house and used her new shampoo.” He quickly lied, smiling at Scott as he pulled away. “So stop smelling me dude. Kind of rude.” The darker skinned male flushed a bit, and nodded, moving a bit more away from Stiles as they both turned their attention to Derek, who tore his gaze from Stiles to look at the other Pack members. 

“I’ve called a meeting with the Alpha pack for a compromise.” He started, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. “They’ve agreed to meet in a neutral zone so we can talk about some sort of treaty to stop the killing.”

He gave Erica a look over, who looked disappointed at the word ‘neutral zone’, shaking his head. “I know what your thinking Erica. We’re not going to fight them if we don’t have to. I know you love violence, but I won’t have any of you killed.”

She just pouted, but nodded, leaning against Boyd’s chest with a small sigh. Stiles gave her an apologetic look when Derek wasn’t looking, and she shrugged lightly, saying with her eyes that she really wasn’t that bothered by it.

Derek looked around once more, making sure the whole group knew was happening and was ready, before turning to face the woods. “We go there on foot.”

\---------------

They trekked to a clearing deep in the preservation woods, moving fast. Thankfully, the wolves walked slowly so Stiles, Allison, and Lydia could keep up with them. Stiles kept an eye on Lydia, making sure she was all right. So far, she didn’t seem to be having any long-term effects from her captivity, which was nice. The last time she had interaction with a supernatural bad guy, she’d ended up going a bit loopy in the head. 

“We’re nearing the clearing.” Derek called back to them, and Stiles’s grip on the bat got tighter. They stepped into the field moments later, and came face to face with the pack that had killed his neighbors. All of them were lined up, being numbered 7 in all. 

Derek approached first, leading point, and then the rest of the wolves. Stiles worked his way past them to stand by Derek, ignoring the look he was sent by the Alpha. He didn’t make Stiles go back though, as they came to rest a couple feet away from the other pack.

“You must be the Alpha, Derek Hale.” A tan woman with long brown curls smiled at Derek, her teeth a killer white. “I’m Kali.” She gave a exuberant bow, obviously mocking Derek, who growled lightly in the back of his throat, before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“I want to make a truce between our packs. The killing is going to far- your upsetting the balance.” He began, but was cut off by a laugh from Kali, who shook her head. 

“Oh no dear, I’m just following orders you see. I can’t actually stop the killing~”

Stiles frowned at her. “Then why the hell did you come here?” He asked, resting the bat on his shoulder. The other Alpha just grinned at him, putting her hands on her hips. 

“That’s easy. We wanted you all to get into a group so we could kill you at once and speed this whole thing up!”

And that’s when the real shit began.

“SEPARATE!” Derek roared, turning towards the rest of their pack. Jackson reacted immediately and turned to Lydia, grabbing her and pulling her onto his back as he began to run. Scott grabbed Allison, and was off right behind him. Erica and Boyd went around the Alphas, who were beginning to chase after the 4 who had just ran, and Derek and Isaac left the way they came. The other 3 Alphas went after those 2. Stiles was left just standing there, a scowl on his face, before he too turned and ran. 

Someone did notice him however, and began racing after him. Stiles looked over his shoulder, and saw Kali running after him. He swore, and began to go faster, letting his Grimm abilities fall in here, going faster then any normal human would ever be able to. 

He thought he might be able to escape, but that notion was lost when the Alpha leapt and tackled him to the ground. Self-preservation acted up, and he swung the bat, hitting her right in the face, the crack of bone echoing as she let out a scream of rage. He dropped the bat next to him, and lifted his legs up the next time she lunged, kicking up and right into her ribs, another crack being heard. She was healing already, but it gave him satisfaction to see the pain in her features. 

“That’s what you get for messing with a Grimm, bitch!” He whooped, then clamped a hand over his mouth when the female Alpha’s eyes widened, and she stepped back.

“You’re the Grimm?” She said, her eyes filled with surprise. Then she began to grin manically, turning around. “This just gets better and better!” Stiles just stared, as she ran back the way she came, very confused.

Just what the hell? How did he being a Grimm make it better for her? Shouldn’t she be freaking out?

She obviously was in the loopy bin, it seemed to him, as he slowly stood up, rubbing his sore back, picking the bat back up with a groan. He needed to get back to the Hale house, and then hit himself in the head for saying the Grimm thing aloud. God he could be such a loud mouth! He might have just screwed everything up.

Who knew what this crazy Alpha would do with this little tid bit of information?

\----------------

Kali held her phone in her manicured hand, a smirk on her lips as she held it up to her ear, sighing as she flicked some dirt off of her jacket. Derek Hale’s pack had gotten away unfortunately, but that had been made up by the knowledge of who the Grimm was now. 

And the fact that he was in the Hale pack would interest her Packs employer very much.

“Hello sir? I have a new predicament. The Grimm is in the wolf pack.”

She paused, nodding. Then another sick smile grew across her lips.

“Of course. I’ll prepare for their arrival then.”

The phone was shut with a snap that seemed to echo around the room, eerily morbid and final.

**End Chapter 10**

  
  
Chapter 12: Bonding and Training  
Summary:

Derek sort of kindaps Stiles

  
  
End Notes:

I’m going to be going back and adding more facts. I just realized how disconnected this is, and I’m currently going to write a couple filler chapters to explain how the pack became closer. 

I'd like it if you guys listed some things you want explained!

Derek and Stiles bondinggg!

And I really just realized this story is going to become like, 30 chapters long.

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 11  
-

So 3 days had passed by for Stiles, and so far, no Alphas had come to kill him. He hadn’t been threatened, glared at across a room… nothing.

And that was beginning to worry the teenager. 

He’d expected at least one of the Alphas to show up and at least try something. Maybe bribe him to let them live, or to leave town. He’d heard of that happening to his uncle a couple times. Then they’d realized he wasn’t going to kill anyone, and they’d started sending gifts to him like crazy so he would keep up the good work or something.

Apparently Monroe had gotten a right kick out of it. It was before they were even dating, and when his uncle was still dating Juliet. Monroe had just got tons of kicks whenever Nick got annoyed or had more trouble on his hands, since Nick kept on annoying him for facts about Blutbads and other Wesen when he first became a Grimm. After Juliet had split it with Nick however, then well, lets just say the Blutbad was a lot clingier to Nick. He’d begun to bring Nick little presents and the such…

Nick had been horribly oblivious, and had only noticed when his partner Hank pointed out the others affections after he and another co-worker, Wu, was getting tired of the whole situation. 

Then the happy relationship had begun, and Stiles was stuck with a lovey-dovey uncle and his wolfie partner during the summer. But hey, he was happy for his uncle. Stiles could only wish for the relationship they had. 

_‘God, there you go again. Letting your mind get off track.’_ Stiles thought, shaking his head as he rubbed his eyes, letting his head loll back against the grass, hands falling from his ace after a while and digging into the soft earth underneath him. Dirt got under his fingernails, and he lifted his hand to the sky, spreading his fingers out widely, watching as small specs of the dirt fell down, landing on his face. 

Who knew how long he’d even have hands? Or limbs, for that matter? Or even his face? He happened to like his face, he didn’t want to loose it!

Sitting up, he stretched out his legs; touching his toes as he went through his afternoon stretches, feeling his muscles pull with the movements. He was limbering up for the inevitable battle against the wolves, wanting to be able to move as much as possible. His uncle had been strenuous with the stretching over the summer, and since he’d gotten back, Stiles had a habit of not doing it. 

Standing up, he bent as far as he could in each direction, his flexibility showing with his movements. He was so engrossed with everything that he let his defenses down, as someone came up behind him, standing still as they watched.

“Surprisingly flexible.” Derek’s gruff voice made Stiles jump and turn quickly, on the alert. Derek was standing there, muscled arms crossed over his chest. The Grimm let out a whoosh of air, relaxing slightly.

“Jeez, give me a heart attack would you…” He muttered, ignoring the amused look that crossed Derek’s face for a moment, before disappearing. “You got nothing better to do but freak out teenagers in their backyard? Got tired of doing it in graveyards?”

“No. I came because I need you to come with me.” He glanced down at Stiles bare feet. “So put on some shoes.”

He blinked at the wolf, but nodded, jogging over to the back door and slipping into his man-flops, wiggling his toes at the end. Scott thought he was crazy for wearing them in fall, but Stiles happened to like the coolness on his feet. 

“Flip flops?”

“Shut up. Their man flops.”

\---------------

Derek led Stiles to his camaro, and the teen couldn’t help but bask in the beauty of the car. An asshole like Derek really shouldn’t be able to drive such a fantastic car. Stiles loved his jeep, but he would give anything to have a car like Derek’s.

Sometimes he felt as if Derek knew this, and showed his car off more in front of Stiles to make the teenager even more jealous then he already was. 

“Where are you taking me, anyway? You know this makes you seem like a giant creeper? Not like you weren’t one already. This just like, confirms your creeper status.” Oh god, why was he rambling? He only rambled when he was stressed out or nervous.

Derek did not make him nervous. Nope, not at all.

“To the house.” Derek’s answer is short. 

“That helps me know what you’re going to do.” He said, rolling his eyes as Derek turned down the road that passed by the nature preserve. He gazed out at it for a moment, wondering lightly in the back of his head if the Alpha pack were patrolling there, waiting for their chance to get into Derek’s land. 

_Land hungry pack mules._ That’s what Lydia had called them after they had regrouped the previous day. They’d all gathered at her house instead of Derek’s, telling her parents that it was a study group. Derek didn’t trust the safety of his home anymore, worried that the Alpha pack would start going straight into their land now like they had when they had first arrived in Beacon Hills months before. 

He felt the car shift and turn again down the road to the Hale house, and glanced at Derek, a thought popping into his head. “You know... maybe we shouldn’t do whatever we’re doing here? You’re the one that was worried about the Alpha’s.”

“It’s the only place we’ll have privacy from the rest of the pack.” He grunted. “They get to annoying when I try to do stuff like this with them.”

Okay, Stiles was getting even more confused as Derek talked. What the hell would they be doing at his house? This was starting to sound like some creepy kidnapping ritual of sex or death. Well, a ritual of sex would be nice, but then in a way, it’d kind of be creepy too. Since Derek really didn’t like him at all.

He took a calming breath, controlling himself again. Lately, it had been getting harder and harder to control his thoughts. He hadn’t been this bad with thinking coherent sentences since before he went through his whole griming out thing. 

_‘Maybe I have to go back on Adderall...’_ That was an annoying thought. He hadn’t taken a pill in months, and he’d been enjoying the freedom of a clearer head. Maybe after his Grimm puberty, or whatever the hell you called it, the effects of it faded and stuff like medication would have to be taken again.

That seemed like a crap deal. 5 months of blissful release then a tidal wave of shit.

Derek parked the car in front of the house, pulling the keys out of the ignition and pocketing them. He stepped out, and when Stiles didn’t make a move to get out either, gave him a look. Stiles groaned, but nodded, opening the passenger door and stepping out, feet hitting the gravel soundly. 

“So, you going to tell me now? You’re killing me with suspense.”

“Stop being a impatient little kid.”

“You know, that sounds really disturbing. Because then you’d be kidnapping a child and bringing him to your half re-built house.”

Derek gave him a look, a slight glare in his eyes. “Stop being an impatient teenager.”

“The insult still stands, without the underlying creepiness, you know.” Stiles smirked slightly, shaking his head with a small sigh as he slid across the top of the camaro, almost falling off as he came to a stand still by the Alpha, who looked severely unimpressed by the move, a thick eyebrow raised.

“Whatever.” He turned around, facing away from Stiles. ‘I kidnapped you here, as you put it, so I could start training you in self defense.” 

Stiles stared at his back for a long moment, his mouth falling open in surprise. “Your not shitting me, are you? You’re actually going to take good time out of your day to teach me how to protect myself.”

Derek nodded, looking back over his shoulder at Stiles, looking serious. 

“Oh my god. You’re serious. You want to teach me self protection.”

“Why do you find this so unbelievable?” Derek turned to face Stiles again, scowling even more.

“Dude. You have never once outwardly strived to do something for me.” He said, shaking his head. “This has to be the first time ever. You always make me do things for you, or you accidently do something for me. You sometimes TRY to give me advice, but usually it’s on accident.” He took a breath. “You help your pack, but you don’t help the humans.”

Derek looked even more confused now. “What are you talking about? I help the humans of the pack…”

“Man. No you don’t. Me, Lydia and Allison complain about you guys all the time. You all assume we feel the pack dynamics all around us and feel included, but seriously, we don’t. You don’t try to help them either, but you help the wolves of the pack just fine.”

“I let Lydia through the pack night.” 

“That was it. We haven’t had a pack night since then, and Lydia was all excited about throwing one every god damn Friday for everyone!”

The Alpha actually looked a bit shocked, and Stiles felt a bit of his stomach fall. “You really didn’t know?” 

Derek shook his head, rubbing at his eyes slightly, looking stressed out by this new information. “Its important for humans in a pack to feel like their at home….” He muttered to Stiles, looking like he’d killed someone almost. “Humans are one of the most essential parts of a pack. Your right, I have been ignoring you guys in favor of the wolves.”

“Then you better start working on fixing that.” The teenager muttered, looking away from the other, the twinge in his stomach pulling even more. “This whole… training thing. It can be the beginning of my pack bonding. Next time invite more of the others to help out.” He supposed, the risk of being attacked by the Alphas while with Derek went down a bit, and he’d get to actually talk to the older for more then 30 minutes at a time.

 _‘Though, I really don’t need much help in self defense.’_ He thought, _‘Uncle Nick sort of got that down in the first month. But hey, a little bit of help could be useful. Help me refine my skills a bit more.’_

Derek nodded again, letting out a deep breath. “Okay then. Come on. Lets go to the back of the house. I set up some dummies for you to hit before I went and grabbed you.”

He nodded, glancing down at his feet. Maybe he should have worn his sneakers instead of man-flops. He walked after the broader male, rubbing his fingers lightly, putting some pressure on the knuckles and cracking them. He grinned slightly when he noticed Derek’s expression with each of the cracks, doing it deliberately now. 

He loved messing with Derek. It should be an Olympic sport or something. He’d definitely get gold if he did, he knew that for sure.

\-------------

**(Derek POV)**

Stiles was… not as unskilled as Derek had thought. 

He just watched, with a bit of amazement, as Stiles punched the dummies down with his fists, kicking and hitting in all the right places. The force behind the blows was bigger then he thought the teen possible of emitting, straw coating the ground barely half an hour into the training. He’d sometimes call out some pointers when he saw the others stance grow weak but…

He really didn’t have anything else to say to help him.

 _‘When the hell did he get so good at defending himself?’_ His mind raced, watching as he did a kick that would even cause some serious bruising on a wolf. Had his Uncle taught him? He had caught Scott talking about what Stiles’s had told him about the guy a couple times when they were doing pack meetings, and all he really knew was that he was a cop, and was dating a clockmaker. 

That just sounded like a really weird combination to the older wolf, who’d actually mulled over the idea of the pairing for a bit. He supposed profession really didn’t have to do anything to do with love, or the age between two people.

Kate had made that very clear when she had gotten him to go out with her. The memory of the Argent struck a sour note in his heart, fingers digging into his arms slightly as he breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself.

No need to wolf-out while supervising Stiles.

“Hey! Can I take a break?” Stiles called over, and he looked back at him. The teen did look slightly fatigued, a shine of sweat on his face. He glanced at his watch, seeing that only 40 minutes had passed.

“A short one. I want you to do this for at least an hour a day. You already know some pretty good defense and attack moves, so I won’t have to teach you much besides how to go against wolves.” Stiles nodded, wiping some sweat from his face. Derek paused for a moment.

“Did you learn all of that over the summer with your Uncle?”

The teenager blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. Thought I might as well, if I’m going to be in the middle of the crazy parade. Protecting myself seemed like a good thing to know.” Derek couldn’t tell if he was lying or not- his heart rate was already too accelerated from the exercise he had just done. “Uncle Nick was happy to help. Monroe too.”

“The clockmaker your uncles dating?”

Stiles looked surprised that Derek knew that, staring at him for a moment, like he was reevaluating him, before nodding. “Yeah. He may be a clock maker, but he’s made of tough stuff. Used to be in a gang when he was younger. Real brutal sort of dude too, wouldn’t even probably hesitate in killing someone back then. He hasn’t even told my uncle what he did when he was in it, but whatever it was, made him go vegetarian.” He shook his head. “Then my grandma showed up near the end of August and began helping out too.”

“Your grandma?”

“Who was presumed dead till like, last year. She’s like, some weird fugitive or something.” He shrugged. “She wouldn’t explain that either. She and my uncle are kind of on bad terms since she hasn’t been around since he was like, 10 or 11.” He shook his head slightly, bending to touch his toes slightly, shirt riding up a bit as he did so. Derek couldn’t help but notice that he had more moles spotting all over the skin he saw, like a crisscross pattern.

“You have moles everywhere.” He said this before he could stop himself, and he saw Stiles stiffen slightly, freezing for a small moment, before standing up straight again.

“Yeah. From my moms side of the family.” His voice sounded a bit dry, eyes not even meeting Derek’s.

Derek felt as if he had hit a bit of a sour note there, and dropped the topic of Stiles’s moles, leaning against his house.

“You’ve had a long enough break. Start punching again.”

Stiles let out a bit of a groan, but nodded, turning back with his fists raised. “Fine, fine. Lets work me to death even more then!”

Derek felt a small smile twinge at his lips, and he nodded, as Stiles began punching the bag once more.

**end chapter 11**

  
  
Chapter 13: Summer Events  
Summary:

What happened over the summer when Stiles was gone

  
  
End Notes:

So a filler chapter really.

No, Stiles does not yet know of his dads relationship with Melissa!

  
  


The Grimm of Beacon Hills

Chapter 12

~Events Over the summer~

Scott frowned lightly, dialing Stiles number again. Like his previous attempts, he could only get Stiles' voicemail, telling him to call back later when he wasn't busy. This had been his 5th try in the last 2 hours or so, and by now, Scott was getting worried for Stiles. He usually picked up right away, always on call for his friend. He hadn't seen Stiles since last week and the events with Gerald.

What if something bad had happened to Stiles? What if one of those Alphas' Derek had told him about last week had gotten Stiles and was holding him hostage? His stomach squirmed with worry, biting his lip slightly as he thought on what he should do.

Finally, he made a decision. This had to be something because of those Alphas. He'd go to Derek. Derek would help him.

\------------

Or Scott hoped.

"No. I'm not helping you find your stupid friend."

"Please Derek! He's been missing for a whole week- He won't even return my calls!" Scott tries to make his voice as pleading as he could make it. He had to find Stiles- without Allison; he really was the only person he could rely on.

"It's not my fault if you don't keep track of your friends. I need to find Erica and Boyd- their more important then Stiles." Derek grunted, turning his back on Scott. "Your not even pack, Scott."

Scott's face had gone desperate again, but he'd nodded, getting back on his bicycle and cycling away.

After that he'd tried cornering the sheriff to get information about his sons whereabouts, but whenever he did, the man seemed to figure some way to avoid Scott. It frustrated him even more, and he even tore some of his hair out, thinking of new scenarios that could have happened to his friend.

He even went to Stiles room and grabbed a pungent piece of clothing, inhaling it deeply, then attempting to track it. The scent had become to difficult to find after a point, and he had given up once it seemed like the scent was going nowhere but in circles.

About another week passed, and Derek managed to rescue Boyd and Erica from the Alpha's, breaking into a old shed that they'd hooked the two up in on the outskirts of town. They both rejoined his pack with a desperate manner, to scared to leave and find a new pack like they had before.

Scott approached him again, this time with a few more ideas on how to get him to agree.

\-----------------

"He's still missing."

Derek looked up at Scott from where he had been helping Boyd with his summer school homework, raising an eyebrow at him. Erica, Jackson, and Lydia, who were both at the table as well, glanced up at him too.

"Who's still missing?" Jackson asked, saying what Derek was about to voice. Scott scowled deeply.

"What the hell? You guys haven't even noticed?"

"Noticed what?" Erica asked, frowning slightly as she glanced at Boyd, who just shrugged. Lydia blinked, then seemed to know what he was talking about, looking at the others.

"You mean you guys haven't been looking? I thought that's what you were doing at night!" She sounded slightly scandalized, her expression almost angry.

"Looking for who?" Derek's voice came as a growl, as he stood up from the table.

"Looking for Stiles! He's been missing for 3 weeks and none of you have noticed! I haven't been able to find him, his dad isn't talking to me, and I can't even find a proper scent trail!" Scott snapped, and Erica's eyes widened.

"Stiles is missing?" She whispered. The boy she had liked for so long, and had become her friend, was gone? No. No, no, no!

Lydia stood from the table, backing up to stare at the wolves. "Y-You guys weren't looking? He could be dead!"

Derek felt fear flash through him for a moment, the thought of Stiles being dead playing through his head. "I thought… I thought…"

"You didn't think!" Scott looked at Erica and the others. "C'mon, help me find him."

Jackson scowled, shaking his head. "I don't take orders from you, McHall. Either my Alpha here tells me to do it, or I'm not." Lydia sent him an angry look, and he just shrugged, throwing the anger that she was sending off his shoulders in a heartbeat.

"Go."

Jackson froze, turning to look at Derek. "What?"

"I said GO. Get the others." He growled out, stepping forward. "We're going to find Stiles." The bulky elder looked up at Scott. "He's pack."

Scott seemed to freeze at that. "What?"

"He's pack." Derek repeated, this time stronger.

"Dude! You always threaten him! Erica and Lydia are like, the only ones in the pack that are friends with him!" He snapped, scowling.

Derek stepped closer, standing close to Scott, looking down at him with eyes that flashed red. "Don't you think I realize that? But he's done more for this pack then we like to give credit. He may not know he's part of this, but he is. Once we find him, I'm going to make him know that. He'll go through pack bonding like everyone else. Everyone except you."

He looked back at the others, who were still frozen. "Go tell the others what to do. Get Peter from his cave too." They all disappeared after that, even Lydia, who was probably going to go and hack the Stilinski's porch camera to help out. Peter now lived in the forest, away from the rest of the pack. He was arranging to get an apartment to share with his uncle (though begrudgingly share it- Peter HAD killed Laura after all), but lately had been thinking that maybe… they should rebuild the house. Sure, they'd done stuff like get rid of most of the debris, and he'd torn down the parts that were irreparable a week after the demise of Gerald- mostly in a fit of rage however.

All he would have to do is fix the main structure and the right wing of the large home. Most of his pack was sleeping here, and well, Derek may no be the most responsible of people, but he wasn't going to have his pack sleeping like they were squatters. Then Peter could stop being all feral and his pack wouldn't freeze in the summer.

"Scott. Join the pack." Derek try's to sound soft, looking at the other with less intimidation. "It's good for you. It's like having a family."

Scott looked away, obviously wanting to take the offer. He had seen the pack dynamic between them during the end of the school year. He saw how much his friends had blossomed under Derek's hand. How much happier they were with him being there, tying all of it together with an iron fist.

"You don't have to be an Alpha of your own pack anymore."

Scott was now more like a omega though- Stiles was gone, and he was friends with Allison, but rarely saw her. It was a bit… awkward for them. Since he still was sort of madly in love with the girl.

"After… after everything I've done." He said slowly, meeting Derek's eyes. "You… you would still let me join the pack?" Derek nodded.

"We're brothers Scott. I've said that before, I'm saying it again. You can give me your answer later."

"Right now, lets find Stiles."

\----------------

They hadn't found Stiles.

Derek had sent them out of the border of the state even looking for him, and all of them had come back empty handed. All of the pack was worried now- even Jackson, who tried to hide it, but failed at it.

Then Lydia had to pretty much slap all of them because they still hadn't tried cornering Stiles' dad. He was a cop, he would be sending out rescue teams if his son had been kidnapped, or would have told people if he was dead. They should have done in the very beginning, it seemed, since when they did, all of their worries pretty much disapeared.

Because when they did, Stiles' dad had just blinked. "What? You guys thought he was dead? He's on summer vacation. Which means he got out of town to go somewhere."

There wasn't a single stutter in the Sheriffs heart. Scott opened and closed his mouth, staring at Stiles's dad with a almost shocked look. He'd been so worried, and all it turned out was Stiles on vacation?

"But, he didn't answer his phone!"

"Pretty sure the guy he's staying with locked it in a safe. Wanted Stiles to get away from Beacon Hills completely after all that's happened so…" The Sheriff shrugged, inching towards his car, looking very uncomfortable as all of the wolves just stared at him. "Soo, I'm just going to go now. Good to know you guys worry so much for him!"

With that he'd gotten into his car and driven off, and the wolves still really didn't know where Stiles was in the end.

But it was good to know he wasn't dead at least.

\----------------

It was July 4th, and Scott was spending it alone at the lake that they were going to shoot the fireworks off at, staring at the sky with lonely eyes. He usually spent today with Stiles and his dad, but Stiles was gone, and he didn't want to be the awkward 3rd wheel with his mom and Stiles' dad, who'd begun dating in secret.

When Stiles found that out, well, he'd probably get red in the face and get so excited that he couldn't breath. Then rattle off all these things, like how if his dad and Scott's mom got married, he and Scott would be brothers, and how freaking cool that would be.

He rested his head on his knees, letting out another long breath, not even noticing the new presence behind him before someone cleared his voice. He turned then, blinking, and then eyes widening.

"A-Allison?"

She smiled, and took a seat by him. "Hey Scott. Mind if I watch the fireworks with you?" Scott shook his head quickly, feeling like an idiot already with her close. He had no idea what about her made him feel like this- like he wasn't in control of himself at all. Which made it even stupider, since Allison WAS the one keeping him in control of everything.

"So uh… why aren't you watching these with your dad?" He asked after a long moment, the sun slowly setting behind them. She sighed, gazing at the water.

"He's out of town. Forgot what today was." She murmured. "We usually spent today with Mom and Kate."

Allison knew what Kate had done- but that didn't stop her from missing the woman who had been such a big influence on her life. She knew her mom had her moments of horror, but she had been her mom.

It was impossible not to love her.

He ripped his eyes away from Allison, staring out at the lake. Suddenly, the first firework went off, and a cheer went off from the assembled crowd, as one after another, the sky lit up with the burst of lights. Red, blue, white… over and over they exploded, ringing in his hearing painfully. He pulled a pair of earplugs out quickly, shoving them in as fast as he could, breathing a sigh of relief when the pain lessened slightly from the loud booms.

Allison gave him a sympathetic look, before looking back up at the sky, the colors washing over her pale skin. Her pupils had flashes of colors blooming in them with every flash, and Scott could look away from her. Finally she seemed to notice that he was watching her, and turned her head to look at him. He quickly leaned forward on impulse, locking lips with her, making her gasp.

Then she just relaxed into the kiss, returning it with the same amount of emotion as Scott, an arm going up to wrap around his neck to pull him closer.

It could have just been the rush to Scott's head, but he swore that fireworks seemed to burst just as their lips touched.

\-----------

Scott probably should have thought of the consequences of said kiss. Because the consequences were that he was in a relationship with Allison again. And the pack – except for Lydia and Jackson – did not like Allison.

She had gone a bit of the deep end, he supposed, with the whole shooting Boyd-and-Erica thing.

"Are you an idiot? After what she did?" Erica snapped, eyes burning with anger as she stood up, hands gripping the table. Most of the pack looked speechless, except Derek, who really didn't look like he cared. Erica swirled to face him. "C'mon, tell him that it's the stupidest decision ever! If she's dating him, she becomes pack-"

"She proved that she'd no longer under her grandfathers influence." Derek said, interrupting her with a small shrug of his shoulders. "As long as she doesn't do anything to endanger the pack, I'm not going to dictate anything."

Erica groaned, before turning and slamming out of the room, with Boyd and Isaac following her. Derek glanced at Scott and shrugged, turning to go start ripping down some more stuff from the house.

It seemed that most of the broken parts had been yanked down, leaving only the sturdy bits remaining.

A couple days after that Derek called in some construction workers, along with most of the pack so they could begin rebuilding. Allison helped a lot, and eventually most of the pack got over their grudge against her. They got used to Peter, who even came out of his cave in the forest to help with the construction, slowly returning to a semi-normal personality. Most of them were still wary of the once psycho serial killer however, so he usually spent his time with adults his age, which surprisingly included Chris Argent.

Scott sort of suspected that there just might be something going on between those two. He wasn't sure though- it could be that the two were close friends.

Stiles didn't return all summer. Scott missed him, but spending time with Allison and the others covered it up.

Scott pretty much spent all of his time around the pack, and got to know all of them pretty well, even Jackson. He got used to going to Derek's house whenever he had free time, and helping out with hammering nails in with all of the hired men.

Derek had been right when he said that when you joint the pack, you became family.

The Alpha pack had like; disappeared from the area it seemed for the time being. Derek told Scott that he was pretty sure that they were lying low, and would probably pop up once school started. That's when they would have to start preparing for the oncoming fight with them. They set up training days, and most of them got the whole wolf down a lot more then they had over the previous school year.

All of them had anchors now, and could pretty much shift at will, though none of them were as adept at it as Derek was. They wouldn't be probably until years passed of them being wolves.

Then in a rush, summer had been over, with only a week left.

And then Stiles had come back.

Then Scott had felt right again, like his life was now all falling into place. His best friend was back, he had his girlfriend, and he had his pack.

Things were good.

**End Chapter 12**

  
  
Chapter 14: Stiles's Summer  
Summary:

How Stiles's Summer went

  
  
Notes:

Its come to my attention that I accidently tagged this on Ao3 as scott/jacksin ;; I didn’t mean to, however….

I suppose I may do it actually. I do like the pairing. It just complicates it. So I’m wondering right now, give it a vote I suppose. If enough people would like Scott/Jackson to happen, then it will.

If that was the case, then Lydia and Allison would be together.

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills  
** Chapter 13  
\--

_~Events over the Summer With Stiles~_

\--

Stiles stared out the window of the bus, watching as the houses flashed by, eyes feeling heavy. He’d been traveling to his Portland for the last 3 days up from Beacon Hills, and the constant bus rides were getting to the teenager. At least his dad had paid for Stiles to get onto a coach bus instead of a crappy public one. 

He knew that they were close to Portland now- probably about 15 minutes away from town. His uncle had told his dad over the phone that he’d be waiting at the bus stop, and to look out for the guy wearing a obnoxious sweater. Who was apparently, going to be his boyfriend.

Stiles really had no idea that his uncle was gay. Which he supposed made the guy a bit cooler then he was, if this Grimm thing was going to believed.

Oh god, the Grimm thing. He slumped in his seat a better, closing his eyes as a rush of nausea ran over him. His dad had gotten rid of the body in his room, cleaning it in a bath of baking soda, and then dumped it in a ditch miles out of town. After he’d explained his mom’s side of the family, he’d called up his uncle and explained everything. Nick had immediately agreed to take Stiles in, and they’d bought the tickets for the bus instantly. He was out of Beacon Hills in the morning; bags packed and ready to go.

Since then he’d seen so many peoples faze into those of monsters, he’d lost count. God, there had been wolves, corpse like faces, rat faces, bear faces, horse faces… the list just went on and on. He had no idea that so many people weren’t human! He pretty much got a heart attack whenever one of their faces changed, and he’d broken out in a small fever.

It had faded slightly, but he still felt too hot, body reacting to all the hormone changes he would be going through the next couple months. The younger you are, the worse of a reaction to the change from human to Grimm, according to his uncle. Eventually these fevers would strike every week at random times, then would slowly fade away completely. 

He really wished that would happen sooner, because for god’s sake, whenever he got a fever, he got a splitting headache along with it. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, groaning a bit louder then intended, causing some of the other passengers to glance at him. He honestly didn’t care if they thought he had some weird disease or something- all he wanted was a nice cold drink of water.

“Nearing Portland bus stop 5-b.” The speakers crackled with the driver’s voice, and he let out another groan, squeezing his eyes shut as he sat up, grabbing his backpack from the seat next to him. His duffle was shoved in the compartment above, and his head swam as he realized he’d have to reach up to grab it with his heavy arms. 

The bus came to a jerking halt, and he stood slowly. He lifted one arm above, unhooking the hatch, letting it fly up, then reached up with the other and grabbed the bag. He pulled hard, making it fall onto him with a loud noise. 

Well, at least he’d been able to lift his arms that high. Point for him, it seemed. He slung that over his shoulders, walking off the bus as fast as he could. Which wasn’t really that fast, with how tired he was. Once he was off, it sped away, and he was left there at the stop with his bags. 

He glanced around, and just as his uncle had said, there was a tall scruffy looking guy in the most hideous sweater ever. What kind of person wore sweaters in summer anyway? Stiles began walking towards him, noticing the shorter dark haired man next to him, who must be Nick. 

They really didn’t look like two people he would ever expect to be dating.

“Uh, Nick Burkhart?” He said a bit nervously, shifting in place. Nick blinked, quickly scanning him up and down, like he was already profiling the sick teen. “Um its be. Stiles. I mean Genim! People call me Stiles now, I don’t know if dad told you or what, and you haven’t seen me since I was like 2-“

He was completely interrupted by his uncle giving him a short hug, laughing. “Calm down. I know you like to be called Stiles.” He smiled warmly at Stiles. “Call me Uncle Nick.” He jabbed a thumb at the ugly sweater guy, who didn’t really look like he knew what he was supposed to do with this whole reunion hug. “That’s Monroe.”

“Welcome to Portland. Lets get you inside before you collapse.”

\-----------------

Stiles had been brought to their house, and he had actually collapsed once they got inside. Mostly because of him going through more of the change, and the fact he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the whole time he was coming to Portland. 

When he’d woken from said sleep, Monroe had been in his new room, and had shifted right in front of him.

He’d pretty much freaked out enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. 

\----------------

“Your dating a wolf-“

“Blutbad-“

“-And you let him into my room!? Oh my god, what if he had like eaten me-“

“He’s a vegetarian!”

“-Did you see his fucking teeth? They were worse then Derek’s!”

“Calm down Stiles!” Nick grabbed his shoulders, making the teenager sit down. “You’re over reacting. Monroe is perfectly safe to be around-“

“Well as long as you don’t wear red.” The wolf murmured, making Nick shoot him a glare, letting out a deep breath, as he muttered something about never wearing red boxers again. Stiles just stared then, opening and closing his mouth.

“Oh god. Way to much information.”

Monroe stifled a snort, and Nick hit him the leg, scowling even harder.

\------------------

They began Stiles’s training the next day. Nick had him memorizing things from the books in his trailer, saying he should probably do that before anything else was figured out. Apparently he’d had to figure everything out on the fly, going to Monroe for help on about almost everything he encountered. 

Stiles thought that sounded strangely adorable. Monroe had probably only put up with Nick because of his gigantic man crush or something. He’d asked the wolf one he’d calmed down how’d they even gotten together, and the man had blushed.

“Er well, Nicks partners at work, Wu and Hank told him.” He’d mumbled. “Then he sort of came over and ah...” A blush had covered his cheeks, and that had told the other all he needed to know, coughing quickly as he went back to reading the books at the dining room table. 

He really didn’t want to know any information about his uncle’s sex life. It was bad enough that he’d found out last night that they were one of their touchy couples- the ones that always seemed to brush limbs when they were near to each other. Like ridiculously so. 

And to think, he was going to be around that for months.

He was sitting at the table still with the books, when Nick strolled back in, a plastic bag in hand. “Hey, you got your cell phone?”

Stiles blinked slightly, and nodded, pulling the device from his pocket and holding it up for the other to see. Nick plucked it out of his hands, and dropped into the bag, zipping it up. 

“What are you doing?!”

“Rule number 1, no contact with your friends back home. I don’t need your pack running around Portland.” His uncle said firmly. “They don’t get to find out you’re a Grimm either.”

“Why not?! I need their support!”

“Stiles. This is something you have to go through alone. It makes you stronger in a way, tougher to an extent. It’s a part of the training.” He paused for a moment, obviously thinking of the other reason. “And when you go back there, you’ll be the local Grimm. Keeping your identity hidden is the best way to keep doing cases as safely as you can for as long as you can.” He glanced at Monroe, who was in the doorway. “Trust me.”

So Stiles had. He may not like not being able to talk to Scott, but he’d get over it. He missed the guy like crazy- but it also sort of seemed like some how this would be a good thing for the other too. He needed to figure the events of the year out on his own, and somehow join Derek’s pack.

Cause seriously. He wasn’t going to get far without the guy.

\----------------

After Stiles had memorized most of the commend forms of Wesen, his uncle had moved onto hand to hand combat and the such. Stiles found that with the new muscles he’d gained from the sudden change, he was much stronger, and somehow his flexibility had gone up.

Then once he seemed to be suitable with that skill, his uncle moved onto swords. Around that time, he’d convinced him to get a tablet so he could put the books on there instead of having to memorize. His uncle had of course disabled any email or messaging services on it. A billion pictures later after that, and wala, his own bestiary was born. 

Then the incident with the porn had happened.

\------------

Stiles really hadn’t meant to save the porn on there. Like seriously. He had just been going on some gay porn things on tumblr, bored out of his mind, when he found a couple good gif’s and pictures and videos… 

They’d kind of just gotten magically saved under an obscure folder named. Not on purpose at all, seriously. 

Well, maybe a couple of them on purpose.

But after he’d saved a good amount, he’d gone out for a bit, wanting some fresh air in the park across from Monroe and Nick’s house. He’d thought his tablet would be fine, just sitting there all innocent. 

He should have put a lock on the damn thing like any other sensible teenager, but no, he hadn’t. And his uncle had picked it up, unlocked it, and scrolled through some of the folders, clicking on the one labeled ‘Funny Cats’, expecting pictures of all these cute and adorable kitties that were doing all these funny things…

Instead he’d gotten gay porn.

When Stiles had arrived home, it had been to a very red faced Nick, who told Stiles to lock his tablet. Stiles had gotten equally red, and then the topic had been dropped into a pit, never to be spoken of again.

That’s when he relabeled everything. Knowing Nick a bit more, he would never go into a folder labeled porn.

\--------

2 months into his training, and Stiles had finally gotten out of all of the fevers and muscle spurts. He was lean, fast, and had wicked skills with a blade. He knew about all of the common creatures in this side of the states, having them memorized in a little category in the back of his head for future reference. 

His uncle and him had gotten a lot closer, and even Monroe was listed under his contacts as adults he could trust when crap got real. He’d begun to go along with his uncle on small cases, and even just happened to accidently drop by on days when he was at work, instead of spending it with Monroe and his clocks. His uncle had begrudgingly let him stay those days, after some encouragement by Wu and Hank.

The only thing he didn’t like about Nick’s job was his overly creepy supervisor, Sean Reanard, who had watched Stiles with an intensity that was almost stalkerish. Nick had told him he sort of always looked like that, but Stiles wasn’t so sure. The guy seemed to stare at Nick like he was some treat when he wasn’t looking at Stiles.

It seemed all too soon that he had to go home though, back to Beacon Hills, and he promised his uncle he would come and visit some time soon. He’d hugged both of them, and then off he went on the bus. It took a while, but he got dropped at the bus stop, picked up his jeep from the parking lot there, and headed back home for the first time in months. 

**Chapter 13 End**

  
  
Chapter 15: Truths and Grandparents  
Summary:

Stiles visits Ricker in jail, and has a surprise visitation.

  
  
End Notes:

Sort of fillerish, sorry! eue Stiles's grandma will be sticking around for one more chapter.

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills**

**Chapter 14**

Stiles stood in front of the police station, gazing up at the building with a heavy weight on his chest, a small breeze brushing across his face.

Ricker was going to be sent off to the state to be tried tomorrow morning. Beacon Hills wasn't equipped to deal with a case like this, but the state was. Ricker was a complex case, and the local judge really had no idea what to try him with besides kidnapping.

The teenager knew Ricker was getting what he deserved, but he wanted to clear something up with him before he left. He headed inside of the building, his dads keys jingling a bit in his pocket. He'd kindly asked his dad to distract the lady at the desk so he could get to the cells in the back. His dad wasn't exactly happy with the fact his son wanted to talk to the kidnapper though, but Stiles had convinced him in the end.

He ducked in through the door, slipping back behind the desk, hearing his dad talking to the female officer somewhere in the back offices, something about fish and hunting. He shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes as he got into the back easily, walking down the hallway to the cellblocks.

Stiles stepped into the room that housed all of the criminal cells, looking around for Ricker's cell. He spotted it, and walked over, staring into the depths at the hunkered down form, eyes locked onto the hidden face.

"Hey Ricker." His voice sounds surprisingly soft. The head jerked up, the others blue eyes wide. He quickly narrowed them as he caught sight of the Grimm, expression growing bitter in a matter of seconds.

"What do you want?" There's a rasp to Ricker's voice. Had he even been drinking water when he was alone in the cell? Stiles had heard of some inmates trying to dehydrate and starve themselves to death, but he bet that he was being force fed by one of the policemen. Just enough so he was alive. Ricker did look much more gaunt then he had when he had first been captured, his skin now a sickly color.

Or that could be because Stiles had taken his Wesen soul away forever, without any possibility of ever getting it back. He lump of guilt formed in his throat, but he swallowed it down, closing his eyes. He hadn't known Ricker had been just a kidnapper at the time- he shouldn't feel bad. At least Ricker couldn't ensnare women and men anymore.

"I want to know why."

A dry laugh escaped Ricker, and he shook his head. "Feeling guilty?"

"Not at all." Stiles lied to the other, not even battling an eyelash. "I just want to know why you did it. After I… after I took away your Wesen, you said you only wanted to be loved. Elaborate on that for me."

Ricker doesn't talk for a long while, just staring into Stiles' eyes with a chilling intensity.

Finally a long breath escaped the other, and he leaned back against the cell wall. "It's how it sounds." He muttered. "I just wanted love."

"Tell me why."

A growl escaped Ricker's throat, as he looked up at the Grimm. "Do you want me just to go over how shitty my childhood was? That my dad fucking raped my mother like the Breeder he was, and then she had me? And after that, she knew I'd be exactly like him, so my mom shunned me! I didn't think it was even weird until I was in elementary school, and kid's kept on going on about how their relationships with their parents were so fun!"

Rage was burning in his eyes like a fire, the sickness chased away by memories.

"No one ever cared for me! Never! I ran away from home at 13 and no one even cared that I'd run! No teacher cared, my mom didn't care! I didn't even have friends!" He let out a snort, shaking his head as he ran fingers through his hair. "I craved affection like it was a drug. So, at age 15, I started taking people. Which eventually got me here of course."

His expression died again, the fever that had burned in his eyes dying down now. "It worked. For a while. But the craving just grew, and grew and…." A laugh erupted from his throat, crazy and deranged, and Stiles stepped back from the bars slightly. Ricker just kept laughing; body shaking, and obviously he had just gone off the deep end entirely.

Talking to him wouldn't explain anything more. At least now he knew the others motives, but somehow, hearing about his childhood just made Stiles feel worse in a way. No one deserved to be abandoned by the people that were supposed to love them. Not even someone as messed up in the head as Ricker.

He left quickly, before the guard came in to see why their prisoner was laughing his ass off in his cell and saw the Sheriff's son in the same room.

Stiles arrived back home a bit later, rubbing his neck as he headed up stairs, sighing a bit as he mulled over what he had heard from Ricker. His dad was gone of course, at work where Stiles had left him, having duties to do still. So the house was supposedly empty.

So when he pushed his door open, he really wasn't expecting to have his legs swiped away from underneath him, making him fall to he ground, flat on his ass. He groaned, before realizing that maybe he should probably get to his feet before his unknown attacker struck again.

"Your getting lazy, grandson."

He jerked his eyes up, staring at the woman standing there. "G-Grandma? W-What the hell! Why'd you do that you crazy-" He quickly cut himself off before he could say 'crazy ass bitch' since that would sort have be a bit rude. His grandmother snorted, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest, watching as her grandson got to his feet, brushing himself off.

"Why are you here anyway? Thought you were trackin' some European Wesen gangs…" He muttered, walking over to his desk.

"What, I can't drop in and be a grandmother to my only grandchild?"

"You suck at being mother, let alone a grandma." Stiles shook his head slightly, pulling a seat out for the other, and plopped down on his bed, stretching. She sat down on the chair, crossing her legs.

"You caught me. Nick called me up so I could give you this. I took it from him a couple months ago and forgot to give it back." She reached behind her, and pulled a long package, wrapped in brown paper.

Stiles felt his heart quicken at the sight, the oddity of his grandma being here along with the conversation with Ricker going to the back of his mind as he took it from her. He ripped the paper off in the hurry, and like he suspected, it was the sword he asked Uncle Nick for months ago, laying heavy in his palms. It was just as he remembered it, long, lethal, and beautiful. He slowly looked it over, examining the hilt. The teenager uncapped the compartment there, pulling out the small scroll inside that Nick had put in there for him. They'd done this for a week once, only speaking through messages they stuck in weapons or even items around the house.

Lets just say, Monroe hadn't really like that.

Stiles uncurled the letter, and read it quickly. Grandma was in the country because of some new information Nick had gotten about an organization that was becoming a big problem here in America. She'd mentioned something about him, inquiring about Stiles's health or something, and apparently that made her a volunteer to come bring him the weapon, but also it was because of another matter. The matter of him taking a Wesen's abilities, and about how he was coping lately. Stiles let out a groan, looking up at the woman with a scowl.

So she was here to be his therapist? Just great.

He crumpled the letter up, and threw it into his trash like a basketball, trying to keep his face passive as he stood up. "So alright then. You brought the sword. You can go now."

"You know I can't. We need to talk, Stiles. You just destroyed a piece of a Wesen's soul." He jerked his head to look at her, eyes burning as he opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head. "No. Don't talk. You know you have to have this conversation with someone. So just sit your ass down so I can talk to you."

A growl erupted from Stiles's throat, but he nodded, sitting back down on his bed with a huff, looking out the nearby window.

"You feel guilty. Nick did too, when he told me what happened. Yeah, what he did was to protect people, but it still made him feel like crap. You did it to stop a man from kidnapping people. You shouldn't feel bad." She brushed a hand along Stiles's face, sighing. "It isn't something you should be ashamed of, grandson. Wesen aren't humans. Their just monsters. You're a lot like me you know-"

"I'm not like you! Neither is Nick!" The younger snapped, interrupting the elder, looking back at her. "You're the bad Grimm! You're the one that kills! You're the one who's oh so proud of the fact that we're descended from a enormous asshole that killed innocents for fun!" His voice is like a knife, cutting through the air. "Stop trying to be a grandmother, when you know your just a monster!"

She looked slightly taken aback, but then her expression hardened, and she stood up. "Very well. I'll be in town for another day or two. I'm going to... I'm going to go look at some leads I've gotten. I'll be back tonight to have dinner with you and your father." She turned around, and walked out of the room quite quickly.

The teenager let out a groan, and flopped back again onto the bed, scowling up at the ceiling deeply. Fucking shitty grandmas. Fucking annoying cases. Fucking annoying everything!

God, she couldn't even visit her grandson without having some sort of lead on her case nearby, could she? He wished that Nick had just come himself! How had the man thought sending psycho grandma was a good idea? Especially with the fact that Beacon Hills was home to a Blutbad pack! His grandma could get it into her head that they were some sort of threat and off them all in their sleep!

Jeez, that would be embarrassing for Stiles. To explain to his dad and the families of the pack that his grandma had killed their kids because she was probably as racist as you could be towards Wesen. She chose to ignore her son's choice in friends, along with her grandsons, but you could just see the dislike in her eyes. Nick had attempted several times to help her get over her prejudices, but with no success. Stiles suspected this was another one of his tries to get her to start seeing things his way.

Yeah, that really wasn't going to happen.

\----------------

**(Derek POV)**

Derek sat by the fireplace, rubbing his chin as he listened to the faint chatter of Erica and Isaac. They were talking about something that happened at school, but Derek's mind was on something else.

That something being the woman he'd seen leaving Stiles's house that day when he went by the grab the other for some training. He'd been about to knock on the door, but it'd opened, and a woman, about in her 50's or 60's rushed out, brushing past him without a look. She'd looked quite upset, a frown marring her lined face as she walked with purpose.

Derek had stared after her with wide eyes, and then shook his head, rubbing his eyes. He'd knocked on the door, but Stiles had never came down stairs to answer the door. He'd climbed up to his window, and saw the other on his bed, just staring at the ceiling with a blank expression.

Which was completely unlike the teenager. Derek almost opened the others window and stepped inside so he comfort him or something, but he'd stopped himself in the end, pulling his fingers away from the window and clenching them into a fist.

Now Derek wondered that maybe the cause of Stiles sudden glumness had been because of the woman that had left. Who was she? Why was she at the Stilinski home?

He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a small groan. God. How come everything about Stiles these days seemed to confuse him? His head would sometimes swim when he saw the other, his guts clenching in a uncomfortable manner. His heartbeat would speed up slightly, and he was thankful that none of the pack had noticed yet that their Alpha was acting like a teenager around Stiles.

\-------------------

Kali sat by the window, looking out into the dark lawn in front of the home, a wicked smile on her face as she waited for her… esteemed guests to arrive.

Her boss had organized for the three who would be arriving soon to help dispatch of the Grimm. Apparently, one of them had experience with this area when it came to Grimm's, which made her veins spark as she thought about the implications that came with that. That connection would have to run through the young Grimm she'd run into after the conflict with the Beacon Hill's pack.

Lights suddenly appeared on the end of the street, and her eyes jerked over to the brightness, following it as it pulled up into the driveway. Ethan stepped out, opening the passenger doors in record time.

The three stepped out; thin as rakes with this certain lethality about them that would set anyone on edge.

The cavalry had arrived.

**End Chapter 14**

  
  
Chapter 16: Arrivals  
End Notes:

Very villain heavy at the end...

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills**

**Chapter 15**

That night at the Stilinski household was one of extreme awkwardness. Stiles for once actually had to cook himself to give his psycho grandma a good enough meal. Nick had told him once that the woman had literally thrown the take out he'd bought, out the window and onto Monroe's head, she hated it so much. So he'd spent most of his afternoon in the kitchen, looking through his moms old recipe books and picking which ones seemed to be the best bet to get his grandma to leave on a good note.

Because if she became more upset with him well… he wouldn't put it past her to do something drastic to hurt him or get back at him. That's how she worked. She probably had already made some plan to get back at him for his earlier outburst.

She'd arrived moments after his dad had gotten home, surprising Stiles's dad. He'd hugged the elder, shooting Stiles a look over his shoulder, pretty much screaming at him for not telling his dad that she was visiting. He'd learnt months ago from a call from Nick that the woman was alive, so at least his dad was going to start screaming about zombies. Though of course, her appearance had answered his dad's question of why Stiles had been cooking all afternoon instead of ordering their favorite Chinese like they usually did on Friday nights. The man had heard of her reaction to take out from Nick as well.

The teenage Grimm ran his fingers through his hair, staring at the clock on the wall as he waited for this terrible night to be over. All 3 of them were so quiet as they ate, and even though Stiles hated that silence, he definitely wasn't going to be the one to break it.

Eventually however, his grandmother broke the silence, shattering the bubble into pieces.

"I thought you got fired from your job as the Sheriff, John." Oh god, where had she learned that? Just proved that his grandma did keep creepy stalker tabs on her family, even though she'd pretended to be dead since his Uncle was 12.

"After uh… the incident of Stiles and Scott kidnapping Jackson was cleared up by Jackson a bit ago… and the city decided to reinstate me since the new Sherriff they got was a bit shitty." His dad muttered, scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes up and jamming it into his mouth, trying to avoid speaking. He never had met his mother-in-law until his wedding to her daughter, and it had been only for a couple days. Stiles's mom was 19 when they married, her mother entering her 40's at the time. Apparently she had disapproved greatly, saying a Grimm shouldn't busy themselves with marriage and children until they were older and could protect themselves.

His mother had apparently told her to screw off. All contact was cut of then, and a year later they'd gotten an invitation to her funeral by her Aunt Marie. His mom had wanted to take her younger brother in, but Marie insisted that she was the one who should raise him.

Stiles was pretty sure that his mom must have regretted not taking Nick in. She had to have known that eventually, when Marie died from the cancer growing inside of her, that Nick would be the one to inherit the curse. Stiles had inherited his part of it because he was a new mix between blood, the curse taking hold in anything new. If he ever had kids, it would probably skip them and go straight to his grandkids, and then they'd have to deal with it.

The curse had fallen on their family with the original Grimm brothers. They'd angered a witch of sorts, a powerful one, and she'd laid the curse down on them. Before that they'd been fakes, pretending to be monster hunters to get money, but the curse made them able to see the monsters that were really out there, the things that went bump in the night. She'd been expecting them to go insane.

She really hadn't expected them to become the most feared thing in the Wesen community. That their reach would cross oceans and land, and that one day, every Wesen child would know the horror of the Grimm. Sure they were rare, but they were still the things that no Wesen ever wanted to meet, no matter what the situation was. Monroe had only ever helped Nick in fear, which had transformed into pity once he realized how defenseless the man really was. That pity had turned into love once he realized that the Grimm really was just a person like everybody else.

It gave Stiles hope that maybe Derek and the pack would see it that way too. Or at least Derek, who knew about Grimm's. He would have been raised on the stories much like Monroe had, and Stiles felt as if he would have to go through the same process Nick had to earn his trust, or at least, on a smaller scale. It helped that he knew Derek before his change too, so he could always tell the other to look back on how he was before, and how he was after. He could convince the other that he still was on their side and that he wasn't going to go around killing every Wesen he saw just because they weren't human. That was his grandmother.

"So Stiles, any plans for this weekend? Friends to hang with, homework to do?" His grandmother asked, taking a small bite of the meatloaf Stiles had made, chewing it softly. She doesn't spit it out, so he takes that as a sign that his cooking is up to her standards. He swallowed the food that was in his mouth, stomach feeling heavy.

"Uh, I'm going to hang out with some of my friends." He said lamely, trying to keep the dryness out of his voice. She nodded, a fake smile touching her lips as she set her fork and knife down, linking her fingers together and resting her head on them.

"That's good. Spending time with friends is wonderful. I hope you cherish those friends, for as long as you have them." Okay, that vaguely sounded like a threat to Stiles, and he gripped his fork a bit tighter, knuckles going a bit white as he locked gazes with the woman. Stiles really didn't appreciate threats.

"Yeah, I know. If anything happened to them, I don't know what I'd do really. I might become a bit… violent." He adds his own threats into his words, and his dad looks back and forth between the two, an eyebrow raised at the pair. Stiles is pretty sure the tension between him and his grandmother is palpable in the air, so thick that you could swallow it. He gulps with that thought, body feeling even heavier.

"Oh of course. Just know, that if they hurt you, your grandma will be here to help." Oh god. Did she mean that if they did anything to him, she was going to go in and kill them? She really was getting on the edge of his tolerance here, teetering at the abyss.

"O-Of course. But they would never hurt me."

She just nods at that, this look in her eyes. She doesn't believe what Stiles said, not one bit. Wesen are a menace to her, a menace that had to be destroyed at any cost. He even had a feeling that maybe she wouldn't even hesitate to hurt him, if he got in her way.

After the most awkward diner in history, his grandmother left, saying she'd pop in every time she was in the country. Stiles had nodded, and promptly sat on the floor once she was gone, rubbing his head as he groaned, glancing back at his dad.

"God she's such a handful. Was she this bad when you met her?" His dad nodded, sighing slightly as he pulled the curtains aside to watch her car pull away from the driveway.

"She was bloody insane at our wedding, your mums and mine. Kept on dropping threats here and there, covering them up like she did today." The Sheriff told his son, turning back to the kitchen table, picking up some plates and bringing them over to the sink as Stiles got back to his feet, grabbing what leftovers there was, and pouring them all into containers for later consumption. Those went in the fridge, and would probably become their meal for the next couple days. They tried not to order in food or make any with leftovers in the fridge.

"She's insane in general…" Stiles muttered to himself, grabbing the dirty forks and knives from the table and tossing them into the running sink with the rest of the dishes. His dad began scrubbing at one, while his son busied himself with the cleaning of their table, wiping the crumbs and mess to the edge, then grabbed a trash can and nudged it all in. They had everything cleaned in half an hour, and Stiles was drying the dishes once they had all the crud off of them. They were stacked in the cupboard, and then he flopped down next to his dad in the living room, staring at the ceiling. His dad nudged him lightly with his shoulder, giving him a smile.

"Well at least she's gone. C'mon, lets watch the Packers beat the Vikings." The TV was switched on, and Stiles let himself get lost on the simplicity of football.

\-------------------

The whole pack – except Stiles- was gathered in the living room, seated in front of the TV as football raged on the screen. The boys may prefer lacrosse, but football wasn't something any of them hated. Allison, Lydia, and Erica were all seated on one sofa, chatting about random things as they waited for the game to be over so Lydia could pop The Notebook in.

"Oh come on- he totally fumbled the ball!" Scott yelled at the screen, a boo coming up from Isaac as they locked their eyes on the screen. Jackson rolled his eyes at them, but he too was pretty much enamored by the game, unable to pull himself away from it. Derek was sitting by Boyd, watching with disinterest in his eyes as the Packers scored a touchdown. He didn't really like football that much, but since every single male in the pack besides him seemed to like it, he put up with it for these nights. His thoughts were still dwelling on the woman that had left Stiles's house, so he really wasn't paying attention; his ears tuned to the sound of the game and of the girls little conversation.

So he really didn't notice the sound of a car pulling up outside the house. None of them did, their ears filled to the max with stereo and cries of indignation when their favorite team didn't get any touchdowns. The car door opened, and was left that way as three thin figures stepped out of it, large bags in their hands. Another 2 people stepped out, and they took the bags, faces transforming for a moment to look like a corpses. They had just come from the Alpha packs home, wanting to get their project started immediately.

They began making a circle with the contents of the bags, and it became very obvious to any on looker what it was.

Mountain Ash.

They completed the circle in minutes, working quickly. They didn't know how soon the Blutbad's would be shaken from their game to notice the unfamiliar stench in the air, or the noise of 5 more heart beats in the area. Thankfully they didn't, and when it was finished, they all stood back, waiting for the wolves to notice that they were trapped inside the house.

And when their prey did come out of the home, the real fun would begin. The hunt of the Grimm would start with the interrogation, torture, and murder of those he kept dear to him. It was standard procedure for Reapers. You wanted to break their spirit first. Getting a Grimm's shield down was sometimes near impossible if they didn't have close friends or family. It was just their luck that the Grimm in question was part of a Blutbad pack; which was practically like a family.

The Reaper at the head of the procession had a sick smile spreading across his face. It was time to end this line of Grimm's personally. It gave him a sense of satisfaction, since he knew the Grimm he was going to kill tonight was the son of the Grimm he had killed 10 years ago in an alleyway. Her screams had been so sweet, ringing around him like a blanket as she had the scythe carved into her stomach. She had screamed that she had a son, but he'd let that slip out of his mind as he beheaded her.

That had been a mistake it seemed, since her son now was a Grimm, and the nephew of Marie Kessler and Nick Burkhart. He hadn't known that Jane Stilinski was related to either of them, though Nick had only become a big name among Wesen since about 2 years ago. When he had cut two reapers heads off with their own scythes and sent them back to France.

Now he was going to cut this little Grimm's head off and send it to Nick Burkhart with a little note. A little note saying you should never mess with them. Never mess with the Wesen mafia.

**End Chapter 15**

  
  
Chapter 17: The Truth Comes Out  
End Notes:

Pee-tre isn't the pronunciation of his name, btw. Pet-ri is. Or at least in this story, that's how its gunna be. I'm sorry for the late update- my mind was busy with other things and I've been a bit… moody lately. My mood affects my writing, so I didn't type this till Saturday.

And yes- another cliffhanger. You guys must hate me, lol.

  
  


The Grimm of Beacon Hills

Chapter 16

Peter sat up on his air mattress, sniffing the air slightly as he frowned. The cave he was sleeping in was cold and damp, but it felt good on his skin. The burns may be gone, but he could still remember the feeling of the sensitive exposed skin. The memory would echo in his mind. Derek had tried to get him to come back to the house, but Peter had said no instantly. That house had too many bad memories, even though it had been rebuilt. Peter didn't need more reminders of what he'd did and what he'd witnessed.

At the moment, a very familiar scent was wafting through the air from the direction of the pack home. The scent of mountain ash. It was strong, only recently put down by someone. Peter stood up now, frowning as he exited the cave, standing in front of it for a moment, inhaling more of the burning scent, before he began to run towards the home, going as quickly as he could and as quietly as he could.

Once he was in the tree line that marked the clearing that the house was centered in, he ducked behind a tree, hiding his form from the figures standing on the lawn. Peering around the edge of the tree, he could see about eight of them… all just standing there, staring at the building. Three of those eight were holding… scythes?

What were reapers doing in Beacon Hills? Last Peter heard on the grapevine is that they were tracking some Grimm in Europe- a big catch, had killed hundreds to thousands of Wesen. Beacon Hills hadn't had a Grimm in it for about 10 years, not since Sheriff Stilinski's wife had died at their hands years ago. Stupid idiots passed it off as on of those satanic serial killers jobs- even though it hadn't fit that guys killing style at all. Just showed what the police did when they didn't want to figure crap out.

Peter sniffed the air again, picking out the scents of who exactly was in the house. All of their little pack it seemed except… Stiles. Stiles's scent was several days old, probably having not been here since his last training session or from when Derek gathered the pack for that little battle of his. Peter had skipped out- opting to go search for the Alpha packs base camp. He'd been able to track it pretty far, before one of those handsome twins noticed him and chased him back onto Hale land.

Cheeky little asshole. Oh how Peter would love to rip his little eyes out and send him back to his pack, blind and useless for public recon. It would have been so fun… but Derek would have found out, and another little bit of black would be added to Peter's name, as his nephew added up all the reasons Peter should go, and all the reasons why he should stay. Peter didn't particularly want to leave so… he was sucking up.

 _'If I want to get into his good books a bit more, I'll go warn Stiles about this. His mom_ was _the Grimm.'_ The Reapers could have heard she had a kid, after all these years, and could have come to kill him before he reached his maturity. Peter doubted he even knew about Grimm's in the first place. His dad would have wanted to protect him from something like this. Even if a Grimm's kid didn't get activated, they were always in danger if they knew. This counted towards any non-Wesen who knew about their world. It was just how it worked.

He began running away from the clearing now, phasing halfway so he could run faster, his body a blur as he began his way to Stiles's house. He and the teenager could concoct a plan too- Stiles had always proven to be intelligent enough to get out of most situations. Hopefully, with Peters help, they could come up with something that would get Derek and the pack out of the mountain ash circle safely. Breaking it would have to come first, but Peter had a feeling that the Reapers were going to send the 5 others they had with them to cover the borders of the ash, to make sure nothing broke it. Not an animal, not a person, not a Wesen.

The former Alpha turned a sharp corner, narrowly avoiding an oncoming car as he got across the road and back into the foliage, ignoring the screech of the car and the audible swearing from the male driver, going on about stupid animals and how they should all be shot. In Peter's opinion it should be all idiots like him who should be shot, but hey, no one asked him. Most of the pack already knew what he thought- and thought he was a complete psycho, which he supposed he sort of was. Peter would say he was a bit more… sociopathic then anything.

Peter just didn't care about people anymore. At least, people that didn't matter to his survival. He couldn't remember if he was like this before the fire, but he had to guess, he probably wasn't. He had memories of playing with his daughter and laughing, and feeling… happy. Like she was his world. Which she had been, he guessed.

The man shook his head, muttering under his breath that thinking about the past was useless, and sped into Stiles's road, slowing his gait down to a speedy walk. The Sheriff's street didn't have bad lighting and a abundance of plants, and he didn't really want anyone pointing and yelling stalker or creeper or well, anything that would put him apart.

So when he got close enough to the house, he completely slowed down, moving to the side and heading towards the back, where he knew the teenagers room was located. He got vaguely here the sound of a television going on, set on low volume, and the sounds of snores. They were too deep to be any adolescents, so it was most likely Sheriff Stilinski.

The werewolf easily pulled himself onto the roof, requiring little to not effort at all to get up there, slinking along quietly as he neared the only window on the second story of the home that had any light beaming out of it. Music, coming from a pair of ear buds judging from the intensity, was thrumming in Peter's ears, and he peered into the room, spotting Stiles sitting on his bed, pencil scratching at a notebook, doing homework it seemed. He was also totally oblivious to anything happening around him, and the adult shook his head. It seemed Derek's lessons really weren't paying off that well, if Stiles was this unguarded.

Breathing in deeply, he lightly tapped on the window with an elongated claw; doing it loud enough that it would break through the barrier of music Stiles had build around him. The teenager instantly jumped, yanking the buds out as he looked up at the window, eyes wide as he shot a hand under his pillow, gripping something under it like it was a lifeline. A weapon? It had to be. It wasn't like Stiles was going to stab him with a comb or a phone.

Stiles scowled deeply when e obviously made out Peters face in the darkness, standing up and stomping over, ripping his window open with a great deal of force, making it slam loudly. Peter winced at the excessive force, hearing ringing slightly with the noise. Even as an adult, loud noises still messed with a werewolf's senses.

"What the hell are you doing here? Is it because Derek stopped coming through the window? You guys can use the front door!" He hissed at Peter, eyes flashing. Peter raised an eyebrow, surprised slightly. He hadn't known Derek had a habit of sneaking through teenager's windows, though he shouldn't really be surprised. His nephew did have a habit of not really knowing what proper courting was. He felt a snicker run through him inwardly.

So far none of the pack had noticed- not even Derek and Stiles themselves- but Peter could tell there was something building between them. It was slowly getting bigger with every conversation, every moment they spent together… It was surprisingly obvious if you actually looked, now that he thought about it. He'd figured it out only by smelling Derek and watching the two talk a couple days ago.

"No, that's not why I'm here. I came to get your help and to warn you. Reapers have surrounded the rest of the pack in the Hale house. You and I are the only ones that aren't trapped. Which is obvious." He didn't even give Stiles a chance to reply. "Reapers are killers by the way, that like to chop off peoples heads. They got some other creatures to lay down a mountain ash circle."

Stiles opened and closed his mouth, looking shocked, and Peter took pleasure in seeing the other so shaken up, before he heard a swear escape him, and the joy faded, confusion replacing it. Because that swear indicated that Stiles had some idea of what he was talking about, which Peter hadn't been expected at all from the younger male.

"Reapers? What the hell!" Stiles groaned, rubbing his face. "God why the hell did they have to show up? Now everything just got like, ten times worse from what they were before! It couldn't just be Alpha Blutbaden, no, it had to be Reapers and some other shit!" He turned on his heel, walking over to his bed and pulled the knife from under the pillow, tucking it into his pants. He shot a look back at Peter.

"And yeah, before you ask, I am a Grimm, so no need to go all surprised on me." He snapped, making Peters eyes widen a fraction more.

Well, he hadn't been expecting that at all.

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**(Stiles POV)**

Reapers. Reapers were in town and had the pack trapped. That was the only thing running through Stiles's mind as he walked around his room, gathering things he thought might be useful. Peter hadn't said a word since he'd found out Stiles was a Grimm, just watching him with a creepy intensity. He actually had wished that the former Alpha had blown up or something, or even accused him of being a murdered. Anything was better then this deathly silence that just seemed to echo through the room.

By the time he'd amassed a good pile of weapons on his bed and had begun to shift through them, he felt like he was going to burst, and finally he swirled, facing Peter.

"What? You're not going to say anything?" He snapped at Peter. "I did say I was a Grimm! Hunter of all Wesen, remember?" Peter remained unfazed, and another growl escaped the angry teenager. Today's events just kept on stacking up for him- his grandmothers visit, his failure to do his homework, the Reapers having the pack under siege, and now this! The teenager really didn't need this anymore! He wished that Nick had mentioned all the goddamn stress that came with this job. Stiles really would have appreciated that more then anything else.

"Well? You going to say something? Or you just going to stand there like a useless mutt all fucking night?"

"How long?" Those were the only words that left the blonds mouth, his eyes unwavering as he stared at Stiles, not even phased by his outburst. Stiles felt his shoulder slump involuntarily, knowing what the other was referring to. Obviously to the topic at hand. How long had Stiles been a Grimm exactly?

"Since we killed Jackson and brought him back to the world of the living alright? I went home and there was some freaky worm Wesen in my room and I chucked a rock at it and it sort of… just died." It was a lame explanation, but hey, that was technically how it happened. "My dad came in to see me in hysterics and explained the Grimm shit to me. Or at least what he knew. Then shipped me off to my uncle in Portland who's been a Grimm for a while now." He rubbed at his face, covering his eyes from view. "I've been training with him all summer and got sent back once school started."

"The Grimm in Portland?" Peter sounded surprised, as if he hadn't expected Stiles to be related to a renowned Grimm such as Nick Burkhart. "I didn't know your mothers brother was him. I always assumed that he wasn't even a Grimm yet."

That caught Stiles's attention, blinking in confusion at Peter. "Wait, you knew my mom?"

"A tale for another day, Stiles. We have to hurry back to the house." Peter stood up straighter, having his answer now. It seemed that had been the only thing he had been waiting for, and Stiles felt another glower coming on, but resisted the urge to let it show on his face to the other. Peter wouldn't even care if Stiles was annoyed with him, so why bother the muscle strength to frown at him in the first place? He shook his head slightly; picking up the sword his grandmother had dropped off from the pile of weapons, and grabbed a couple vials from the box he'd set on his bed, shoving those into his pocket.

"Do you have any sort of plan or are we just going to jump in there?"

"Well now that I know that you're a Grimm, everything got a bit simpler. If you just step out and declare who you are, all of them will turn their attention to you." Peter padded back over to the window, sliding out with Stiles behind him, who barely remembered to grab his car keys as he landed on the shingles. "I'll just go around and break the circle. By now Derek will have noticed the smell of mountain ash- he'll be outside by the time we get there." Peter stopped moving, shooting Stiles a glance.

"You better be ready for all of them to know what you are. Because now they're going to find out no matter what you do. The choice of telling them is no longer yours…." Stiles looked away from him, swallowing. He knew very well that now he couldn't choose when he told them. He wasn't stupid. Derek would know who exactly had killed that one Alpha- he would know how dangerous he was. Eventually he would dig up what had happened to Ricker and understand even more…

And then Stiles wouldn't be pack anymore. He'd be the enemy and… Derek might even try to kill him, and what Derek did, the pack did. Which meant Scott… Just fuck.

"I know." He murmured, sliding past Peter now, dropping off the roof to the ground with a thump. "Trust me, I know…"

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**(Derek POV)**

Derek had noticed something was wrong halfway into the game when the stench of smoke and ash hit his nose when he left the living room to grab a coke for himself. At first… he hadn't been able to place it. The scent was familiar, and he'd had to stand there for a while, inhaling the air with deep breaths, before it hit him. Derek had nearly dropped the bottle he was holding, eyes flashing a bright red as a growl erupted from his throat.

"Who the fucking hell laid down mountain ash outside my house!" He heard the rest of the pack jolt in the next room, as Derek stomped out of the kitchen and to the front hall, practically ripping the door open. If he saw Chris Argent standing outside, he was going to rip his goddamn face off! They hadn't done anything! All the killings were being done by the Alpha pack, and if Chris hadn't gotten that into his thick skull from when Derek and Allison explained it, well he could go die in a hole! You'd think after his own daughter explained it all he'd actually understand!

This could also be him just wanting to get back at Derek for taking his daughter away from him in a figurative sense. He had been completely against Scott and Allison ending up together again, and even more towards Allison becoming pack. Once or twice he'd harassed several members, especially Erica in the beginning, knowing she held a grudge against his daughter. Erica had been instructed to refuse any offer he made to her by Derek, and unable to disobey her Alpha, she'd said no every time, frustrating Chris even more.

About a month ago he and Chris had sat down to discuss his terms with the man. He made it clear that he wouldn't turn Allison, and that if she gave any interest into being bitten, he would make her leave the pack. Chris had to think about it for a while, but eventually agreed.

If he changed his mind, well, a shit storm was just about to come up and flow over everything. Derek just didn't need this on top of the Alpha pack.

Exited the house now though, the person outside the circle wasn't Chris Argent.

Reapers. Reapers were the ones who put down the circle. The three of them held their scythes, and the one at the head smiled at Derek, extending his arms in a welcoming gesture.

"Hello Alpha Derek! I am Petri, and it is a pleasure to meet you." The rest of the pack began to flow out behind Derek, crowding behind him. "I'm here for the Grimm! Give him up, and I'll leave your pack in peace!"

That disturbed Derek even more, the already present feeling of unease spreading in him.

"We don't have any Grimm's here." He called out, breathing out heavily, trying to remain calm. "I think your information is faulty."

"Oh no, it's not. Trust me." The Reaper swung his scythe down, letting it lodge itself in the earth as he stepped to the mountain ash line, almost crossing it. "He's not with you at the moment, but I know he's one of you. When he gets here, you're going to let us take him without a fight. You won't get one of your little human pack members to break the circle. You let us take him, kill him, and then we go on our way."

Lydia had tensed up behind Derek ever since the Reaper had said the word Grimm, and now she stepped forward, almost crossing the line. "No! No you're not hurting him! If you touch one hair on his head-"

"I'm sorry, my dear. You have no say in the matter. If any of you try to help him, we'll kill all of you. We coated these weapons of ours in wolfsbane before we came, so they're very, very lethal. One nick and all your wolves will be dead on the ground." Petri sneered, crossing an arm over his chest. "And I'll let you live, just so you know that it was your fault that they died in the first place. You'll live with that guilt forever."

Derek stared at Lydia, and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. Somehow Lydia knew the Grimm that was in town. But how had she even met him? She was always either with Jackson or Stiles, and the only major thing that had happened was the scare with the kidnapper, which had been taken care of the police immediately. Derek hadn't even been able to go a mile from the house before Stiles had called him, asking if he'd heard the news. Derek had responded yes, and then had been told to go back home. Lydia was fine. In shock, but not hurt at all.

Had the Grimm rescued her? Had her kidnapper been a Wesen? God, Derek didn't even know what to think now. He pressed a hand to his face, releasing a shaky breath.

"We don't have a Grimm in our pack. You can kill him- I don't care." Lydia turned quickly in his grip, sending him a horrified look, shaking her head frantically.

"No Derek you don't understand you can't-"

"Lydia! My decision it made!" He threw her into Jackson's arms, who pulled her close to his chest, cradling her head as she shook it, whispering no over and over. Petri clapped his hands, letting out a creepy giggle.

"Fantastic! So when he gets here, we won't even have to fight you! We'll pop his head off and be on our way! Wonderful negotiating with you, honestly. We'll even pull the Alpha pack out of here because of how good you're being! We were planning on using this town as a home base for the pack to spread, but a death of a Grimm is always worth a sacrifice."

"What's a Grimm?" Scott whispered to Derek, making him glance away fro the Reaper.

"The hunters of everything, my dear boy! They're the things that hunt us- not just you wolves, but everything! Grimm's are the true monsters, the things that kill children just because they're Wesen!" Petri explained before Derek could ever get a word out, laughing. "This one is not fully mature yet, so we're taking care of it sooner then later. He has the potential to… turn into a problem you see. We can't have that happening."

"He's not like that-"

"Shut up girl! They're all like that! They're all murderers!" He roared, making the pack jolt back from the line, tensing. Petri regained his composure, that sickly sweet smile appearing on his lips again. "Now then. I think that's his car approaching. All of you sit back and enjoy the ride. It's going to be a fun one."

Sure enough the sound of a car could be heard- an eerily familiar noise. Derek felt the pit of his stomach drop, face paling. No, it couldn't be. It was impossible!

But the car that pulled up was the one he was thinking of, and out stepped the teenager he feared would be the Grimm. Stiles was gripping a sword in one of his hands as he slammed the car door shut, strolling around to stand in front of the lights.

"My boy! A pleasure to meet you at last!" Petri laughed, as the whole world seemed to go upside down for Derek. Stiles. Stiles was the Grimm. Petri had been right.

Stiles just smiled grimly, nodding. "I guess it's nice to meet you. I mean, I do have to kill you in a bit, but still nice. You should eat more you know, you're kinda thin man. And jeez, your completion is horrible! You really should get some more sunlight."

"You?" Derek heard his own voice in his ears. "You're the Grimm? You're the one that killed the Alpha?" Stiles glanced his way, and gave the barest of nods.

"Yeah. My first kill as a Grimm. Sort of didn't mean for it to happen in the beginning." He said, shaking his head. "I'm also the one who rescued Lydia and caught the kidnapper. A Ziegevolk. Creepy guy, a bit sad though when you hear his story." He rested the flat of the blade on his shoulder. "When we were attacked by the Alphas, I sort of accidently revealed my identity so… Walla. Here I am. They contacted the Reaper that a Grimm was in town, and they came rushing over to help protect their little project."

"Of course. This place WAS an investment but… it was more of a chance to rid this place of your bloodline forever." Petri sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't know that female Grimm had a child back then. I would have killed you if I had."

Stiles obviously hadn't been expecting that, his face going several shades whiter.

"What… What did you say?" He whispered, narrowing his eyes as the Reaper, suddenly seeming much more dangerous then Derek, the blade being gripped even tighter in his hand. "You killed my mom? You're the Reaper that did it?"

"In the flesh!" Petri's laugh seemed to resonate through the clearing, as he took another bow toward Stiles, ignoring the angry look flashing across his face, burning there as he glared at the man who had killed his mom. "Why don't you call out your wolf friend from the car? We saw him running off hour's before- I expect he's waiting to run out and somehow ruin the line, but we can't have that can we?"

Derek couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for Petri, as Peter stepped out of the car moving to stand behind Stiles imposingly, because with how Stiles was looking… he wouldn't be surprised if he tore the Reaper apart like the Grimm he was, and all Derek could do was sit back and watch it happen from his cozy little spot behind the mountain ash line.

**End of Chapter 16**

  
  
Chapter 18: Blood and Murder  
End Notes:

Im so sorry this took so long! Lifes kept be busy!

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills**

**Chapter 17**

"You know, she gave up so your father could live. Begged me not to harm him, swore on herself that she would let herself be killed." Petri hadn't stopped speaking, as Peter left the car. His attitude was flippant and silly, and he obviously held no fear towards Stiles or Peter. "Because of me killing her, I got several promotions you know. I was seen as a hero. The Royals sent me on this mission because of it. Had experience I said." A chuckle left his lips. "Right they were. Threaten a Grimm's family and their like putty in your hands, willing to do anything to save the ones they loved. However… you seem to be a bit different." His eyes looked the teenager up and down. "You want to fight. To kill now of course."

Stiles could feel pure rage pulsing through him, his gaze locked onto the man who had just admitted to killing his mother. Peter's presence was heavy behind him, stopping him from backing up, a hand coming up to rest on his shoulder to stop him from doing something. Stiles didn't know exactly what that would be though, but he had a pretty good idea that it was going to involve cutting off some limbs here and there. Especially off of Petri. He just wanted to rip his face off and trample it into dust, before cutting his stomach open and letting dogs feast on him- he wanted to cause Petri more physical pain then anyone ever before.

In a part of his mind, he knew how his mom had died. He'd known since his uncle told him about Reapers and the symbols they left behind as warnings or signs of victory. His mother's death had popped into his dead right away, but he'd shoved it away in a hurry, not wanting to think about it then. Now it had been shoved into his face, along with the actual killer. He pushed Peter's hand off his shoulder, stepping forward as he slung the sword down, pointing it to the ground.

"Oh so the baby Grimm's claws are coming out?" Petri laughed, shaking his head as he ripped his scythe from its spot in the ground, swinging it around as he faced Stiles. "Are you going to try and hurt me with your little sword? So adorable, how you think you even have a chance against us, even with your little wolf friend standing behind you! Though I suppose optimism is always a good thing in the youth of the world these days. Too bad yours will be snuffed out in a bit."

The other Reapers took up their scythes as well now, holding them in the same position as their leader was, stepping in front of him. They were the front line of the battle. Petri wasn't even going to start this thing off himself- he was letting his goons did it instead of getting blood on his own hands. This just increased his anger, breathing even heavier. All the fear from the pack discovering he was a Grimm had washed away, far from his thoughts now.

"Go ahead, boys! Don't kill him though- I want to kill baby Grimm here myself. Go ahead and kill the mutt, though. We don't need the extra." The two nodded, and Stiles braced himself as they came at him, their weapons raised to kill. When they sliced down, he avoided them narrowly, doing a somersault sort of move to keep away from those lethal scythes. Even a nick from that would bleed profusely, and they stank of wolfsbane. Hopefully Peter had noticed that, or else he'd be dead soon without even putting up much of a fight.

Another swing towards him with the blade, and he had to suck his stomach in so it wouldn't hit him, jumping back slightly as he held his sword tight now, crossing it over his chest in a protective stance. He couldn't be on defense the whole time. If he kept on protecting himself and not fighting back, he wouldn't get anywhere. First lesson of fighting really.

This time when one of them attacked, he pushed back with a considerable amount of force, pushing them back before slashing at their arm with the scythe, attempting to cut it. If he dropped it, handicapping him would be much easier. Sadly he only nicked him, a small sliver of blood appearing on the Reapers bare arm, sliding down to settle on his wrist before he wiped it away on his black pants. A glare settled on the enemies face, obviously upset by the fact blood had been drawn.

"You let the baby Grimm cut you, Edward! Deduction on your part!" What the hell? Was Petri grading these grunts or something? The Reaper lunged at him again, and he swung the blade again, this time cutting deeper into his arm, though it was the wrong one. This time at least he'd be in a bit more pain.

The second Reaper snuck up on Stiles and tried to get the drop on him, but the Grimm dropped down, and he just ended up slashing his friends face from chin to forehead, making him scream out in pain. Now was when Peter lunged in, grabbing the second Reaper while he was distracted, yanking him back and throwing his scythe to the side, ripping at his chest as they fell to the ground. The crunching of bone could be clearly heard, and even Stiles couldn't help but wince at the sound, a shiver running up his spine. God it sounded painful.

Oh well. Sucked to be Reaper #2 then. He had to concentrate on Reaper #1 before he could think back on the sickening sounds coming from behind him that would surely haunt him for weeks after this encounter. The remaining Reaper grunt looked slightly shaken by the sight of his comrade being torn apart by a Blutbad, his face ashen for a moment, before he gripped the scythe slightly tighter, looking back at Stiles with overly bright eyes.

Raised again, Stiles prepared for another downward cut, but instead as the Reaper was swinging it down, he changed the direction suddenly, making the blade go right towards Stiles's left arm. Barely having time to block it, the blade of the Reaper dug into his arm slightly before he could pull himself away. It wasn't deep enough to be fatal, but it had dug enough into his arm to make blood dribble down to his hand in a manner of seconds, flowing onto his hand and making it slick.

'Fuck that hurts.' It pulsed slightly with pain whenever he moved it, and he slowly pulled his hand away from the sword, only holding it in his right hand now. It was more difficult then wielding it with both, but he didn't want to loose his arm from blood loss or something. Cuts could kill you if you moved the injured limb too much- more movement meant more blood that would be pushed from the injury. He wasn't going to risk that.

"The little baby Grimm is bleeding! How horrible!" Petri snickered, grinning even wider. "Lets make him bleed a bit more." The motherfucker had not just said that. That crazy psycho really did want him to die! A crazy laughed slipped out of Stiles's lips, and he quickly got out of the way of another swing, this time not getting hit by the blade. He swung his own weapon out, drawing another bit of blood, this time in the form of a deep gash on Edwards's leg, digging it into tissue and muscle. The reaction was instant, a limp forming in the Reapers gait as he moved quickly, supporting most of his weight on his left leg now, a grimace on his face. Stiles had to respect the others tolerance of pain at the moment- he'd gotten the Reapers more sensitive part of the lower leg, almost right in the tendon behind his knee. It wouldn't cripple him, but it would still feel like someone had burned his leg off after chopping it with several rusty knives.

Determination rocketed through this Reaper with this new wound, and he gripped his scythe hard, eyes going wide and slightly insane looking. This time when he swung, it went straight towards Stiles's side, and he felt it cut him deeply there. It sliced into his flesh like it was nothing, and he could barely move away from the blade before it could dig even deeper, gasping as it slide out. His hand flew to his side, pressing against the cut now. More blood spilt over his fingers, and he felt the numbing pain shoot up his spine. Well shit this was really not good. He grit his teeth, looking back up at the psychotic Reaper, forcing himself to grip the sword even tighter, arm shaking ever so slightly.

He lunged forward, and dug the blade up, surprising the other, as he pushed it up into his ribcage, piercing his heart. The Reaper just stood there, gasping, blood spurting out of his lips, as he looked down at the blade that had just traveled through several other organs, then back up. Stiles yanked the blade out of the other, covered in his blood, as the Reaper fell to the ground, eyes lifeless, and a pool of blood began to slowly form underneath his body.

Stiles let his arm drop to his side now, panting heavily, looking back at Petri, who looked like he wanted to murder the young Grimm very painfully and very violently. "I'm going to kill you boy." He hissed out, eyes flashing.

"I think not." Both of them turned to see Derek standing there, the pack amassed behind him. Everyone had been so distracted with Stiles's fight that they hadn't noticed Lydia breaking the circle quickly, freeing the wolves of their pack from its spell. The Alpha slowly cracked his fists, looking to the rest of the pack. "Take care of the witches. Don't leave any of them alive." He ordered, and they scampered off to do as ordered, running around the edges of the home to find the Hexenbeasts who had trapped them in their home.

Derek's complete attention now turned to Petri, looking quite frightening as he moved to stand in front of Stiles, blocking him off from Petri, making the Grimm shift back slightly from the pair, and right into Peters chest, who placed a hand on his shoulder to steady the teenager. Stiles wanted to help- he wanted to make Derek stand back so he could finish his job but- he was too woozy. He'd lost too much blood from the cut on his side, too weakened to be much use to Derek. A pang of irritation ran through him. He was the one who was supposed to be saving Derek- not the other way round. He was finally some use as a pack member, but still kept on getting his ass saved. Derek was also trying to kill the man Stiles wanted to kill- the killer of his mother. The thirst for revenge was heavy in his throat, heavy there as he gripped the hilt of the sword quickly.

The irritation was quickly stamped down by a wave of worry, as he remembered that the other now knew what he was. Who he was. And what he'd done. Derek could be saving him just for the purpose of killing Stiles himself, or so the rest of the pack is protected. Whatever it was, he knew somehow, he was going to get hurt by the Alpha. Emotionally, physically, it didn't matter. It still was going to happen to him, and all he could do was steady himself for the inevitable as the other fought Petri, which had just begun.

The two were just beginning to circle each other, staring one and other down like they were panthers, a lethal feel to the air as they did so. Petri's feet slid across the grass like he weighed almost nothing. Derek's own stance had a certain elegance to it as well, claws unsheathed as he growled at the Reaper. It was menacing, dangerous, and most of all, lethal. This was an Alpha that was set to kill, not to just maim. Derek wanted to destroy Petri, and Stiles swallowed heavily as he realized this.

Sure he'd realized tons of times before that Derek was dangerous, and even animal like sometimes, but he hadn't quite realized how violent he could be when the pack was threatened by an outsider. Gerald hadn't given him much chance to show that violence, though Kate had, along with Peter, but otherwise he only kept to the threatening bad boy image he always had going on these days.

Derek was an Alpha now. He wasn't some Beta or Omega. He wasn't the guy that had come to Beacon Hills last year, looking for his sister's killer. He wasn't the guy that had threatened Scott and Stiles. He wasn't the guy who had crept into all of their houses through their windows, scaring the freaking shit out of every one of them on several different occasions, and for some reason, especially out of Scott. And Stiles. He showed up in Stiles's room way too much. At least before he enforced the rule about using the door when he came by.

His attention was quickly brought back to the two, as Derek lunged at Petri, not giving the other time to do it first. Petri moved away quickly, but didn't move in time to avoid one of Derek's claws, a line of blood appearing on his cheek now, the drop of red liquid sliding down to drip off his chin. Petri quickly pressed a hand to the cut, looking at the blood like it was some foreign fluid, before back at Derek, more anger burning in his eyes. An inhuman screech left his lips, and he swung his weapon at Derek in a wide arch, aiming for the soft part of his stomach that would more readily bleed. The wolf was able to avoid it, twisting his body in a way that even the most skilled of acrobats wouldn't be able to accomplish, feet sliding in the grass.

Petri did the same slicing movement again, moving forward suddenly once more, pressing Derek back towards the house. It seemed his strategy was to corner the Alpha, to make it that he couldn't get away from his blows. Good logic, as Derek was much stronger then the Reaper, and the Reaper had more stamina then Derek. Using his strengths to make the other weaker.

'Derek, push back!' Stiles's thoughts were getting a bit frantic as he watched, an increasing feeling of trepidation as he watched the other avoid blow after blow, each time moving a bit farther back then before. He shouldn't have to worry though, as the Alpha moved forward in a tackling sort of stance, shoving the Reaper back several feet himself, skidding to a stop as he shoved the end of his scythe into the ground, digging it into the grass with a strength Stiles wouldn't think he even would have, with how slim he was. His Wesen nature must be something that was stronger then it looked then, to supply him with this strength.

It was still no match for Derek's, however, who's own strength was much more raw and powerful.

"I will not fall that easily, stupid wolf!" The Reaper screamed, voice hoarse as he stood his ground against Derek. "I will not die! I will not fall to a stupid mangy, idiotic mutt, and his stupid pack full of teenagers and misfits!" Anger flashed through Derek's face once more, as he moved towards Petri once more, this time a blur with his movements, showing the true speed of an Alpha. His claws sunk into Petri's arm, the one holding most of the scythe, and cut deeply, through muscle and bone. The limb, useless now as it hung, almost completely ripped off, let go of the scythe, letting it thud to the ground. Petri let out an ear splitting screech, pressing a hand to his arm as he fell to the ground, his declaration obviously not being true.

"You will die." Derek's voice came as a low rumble, as he knelt by Petri, grabbing the scruff of his shirt, and jerking the other up. He forced him to look into his eyes, the color a deep violent red. "Your stupid to think if you can beat me. A fully-grown Blutbad. Your just some half-bred scum between Wesen, not anything more." His teeth were bared now, and he breathed in heavily. "Enjoy your last moments of life." His jaw opened wide now, and he lunged forward, biting the others jugular before he could say another word, choking him off. Blood spurted, running down Derek's chin as he pulled away, ripping the piece of flesh he had bitten out with a horrible noise, spitting it out as soon as he did. A wheezing noise left the Reapers lips, the light dying in his eyes. He had been made to regret his attitude- he may have been a great scythe master, but against an enraged Derek, he was nothing. Just a stupid skinny man that had harmed the members of his pack, and killed Stiles's mother.

The Alpha wiped at his mouth, as he stood up straight again, looking to Stiles now, face covered in blood. His mandibles had retracted back into normal straight teeth once more, and his eyes were back to their regular shade. Eyebrows back, sideburns gone, there was no sign that he had pulled the shape of a wolf. As it always was with the pack. Derek's gaze was heavy on Stiles for a moment, unwavering as he most certainly thought about what to say next.

"We have a lot to talk about." He grunted, as he turned back to their home, walking towards it with heavy footsteps. Stiles swallowed, looking at Petri's body with a moment of satisfaction, before following Derek, not sure what was going to come next.

**End Chapter 17**

  
  
Chapter 19: Confusion  
End Notes:

Royalty – (1) –Just how it sounds. The royalty of Wesen kind.

I really need to wrap this story up guys;;

Sorry I haven't been updated. I had finals, more life stress, and some other things going on. I don't know how much I'll update this summer. I'll try and involve more aspects from the new season of TW and Grimm.  
Plus I need to go reread my own story so I remember whats going on.

  
  


**The Grimm of Beacon Hills**

**Chapter 19**

Stiles awoke late that next morning, feeling sore all over, especially where he had been stabbed the night before. As he sat up, the stitched wound pulled painfully, causing him to jerk slightly, a groan escaping his lips.

"Fuck that hurts…" He grit out, head throbbing slightly, complaining silently to the Grimm that he should just lie back down on the bed and pretend he hadn't woken up. To let his body rest a bit longer before he went out and began beating it up once more. Of course, being Stiles, he completely and utterly ignored his body's warnings, moving over to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs down and onto the floor. Apparently, whoever had put him to bed last night, had taken off his shoes, and a small shiver ran up him as the cool floor pressed against his soles.

"They coulda at least left my socks on…" He muttered. "What am I? A house elf? They gunna free me from servitude when they give them back to me?" More mumbling of utter nonsense came from his lips, as he slowly got to his feet, using the wall to support most of his weight. He successfully got out of his room and down the stairs without falling, which was a big positive for him really.

Once he reached the main floor, he took a breather for several moments, before beginning the journey to the kitchen, feet silent as they slid along, barely making any noise at all. Stiles could hear voices coming from just ahead inside the kitchen, voices soft as they talked about one thing or another.

Of course, once he got close enough, the voices stopped, hearing his approach. The door swung open, and Scott leaned out, grabbing Stiles's hand and pulling him inside, smiling. "Good to see you up on your feet…!" He exclaimed, as he steered his friend to a seat, practically forcing him to sit down.

He shifted slightly in his seat, glancing at the stove, where Derek was standing, apparently cooking something, and whatever it was, it smelled delicious. Now he finally noticed how hungry he was, his stomach growling loudly, causing Scott's smile to grow to the point where it was stretched across his entire face. It made him look incredibly stupid, but it also made the young werewolf look like himself. The grim expressions that had been spread over his face last night, along with the frantic ones over Stiles's bleeding body, had been all to unnerving for the young Grimm.

"You healed up pretty quickly. We checked your stitches and all when you woke up, and it's like, halfway to being completely healed. Or at least Derek said it is. I couldn't really tell with all the dried blood…!" Scott rubbed the back of his head, as Derek scooped the food he had been cooking onto a plate, walking over to Stiles and setting it down in front of him, before taking a seat next to the teenager, picking up his fork for him. In front of him was a plate of bacon, eggs, and two little white pills, which Stiles suspected were some sort of painkiller.

Holding out his hand, and wincing as some of the small cuts pulled, Derek shook his head at him. "I don't trust you with anything pointy objects yet. Plus you look like you'll drop anything you get your fingers around and fall over." A slight flush of embarrassed anger crossed the younger males cheeks, as Derek scooped up a forkful of eggs, bringing them to his lips.

"C'mon, open up alright. Getting fed by someone else isn't that bad." He grunted, nudging the tip of the fork at his lips again, Stiles refusing to open his mouth still. "It's more embarrassing if you don't open your mouth, you know."

A small sigh left Stiles now, and begrudgingly, opened his mouth for the fork, letting it slip in, and closed his lips around it. The food slid onto his tongue before Derek removed the utensil, scooping up more eggs. He patiently waited for Stiles to finish chewing and to swallow, before popping the next bite in his mouth, and continued this till all the eggs were gone. Then the bacon was picked up, and slowly munched on by Stiles, till both pieces were gone. Pills were slipped into his mouth, and a glass of orange juice slid to his lips. He swallowed them down, hoping they'd kick in soon, before sitting back, gaze turning back to Derek.

"Why haven't you thrown me out yet?" He asked, the Alpha's eyes meeting his. "You know what I am now. Why aren't you throwing me out and screaming obscenities at me? Or killed me?"

It was Derek's turn to sigh now, as he turned to face Stiles more, crossing his arms over his chest, as Allison came over, grabbing the plate and bringing it over to the sink to watch it. The rest of the pack was surely just outside the door, listening in on Stiles and Derek's conversation, like the eavesdroppers they were.

"I haven't thrown you up because your pack. You were just… protecting the pack. The town. You haven't shown to be a major threat to us yet, and if I threw you out well… I think Lydia would castrate me very slowly." The joke threw Stiles off for a moment, staring at Derek for a very long moment, before he released a loud snort, shaking his head.

"So you're not going to completely destroy me then. No super saiyan moment for you? Not going to become the Hulk and smash me into pieces?" Derek nodded his head, a smile twitching barely at the corners of his mouth, as a relieved breath left Stiles, slumping now. He had honestly believed that Derek would throw him out in the end, or someone like Jackson would convince him to kill him. Though people like Scott, or even Peter, Stiles new surprising ally, would most likely protest against those actions. They'd try and go against Derek's decision, somehow. Even though the word of the Alpha was law, technically.

"I'm not going to destroy you. I promise. Killing you would be just plain stupid on my part. Your uncle would probably come and kill me and the pack, and I would have just lost a good method of protecting Beacon Hill from the Alphas and their… affiliates."

"You mean the Royalty(1)? Because it can't be anyone else, with how they were acting. All pompous and important, like they had some great duty to do." He mused, beginning to feel the affects of those painkillers, leaning forward. "Though they could have just been spoiled brats, I guess. We didn't really give ourselves any time to ask about this kind of stuff."

"It could be the Wesen Royalty I suppose. I'm… not sure yet. It's hard to say with the little information we have right now." Derek replied, propping his head up on a hand, the other hand tapping the table in a 4/4 rhythm, causing Stiles's eyes to flicker over to the hand, watching it distractedly. "It also could be any Reaper organization trying to make a name for themselves, or the Wesen mob messing with things again. We can't really know who's behind this until… well we get one of the Alpha's from the pack and interrogate them. And even then… they might not know who their employer is." He lifted the hand now, running his fingers through his hair, releasing a heavy breath.

"For now, we wait. And hope the Alpha's lay low for a while." Derek muttered, gazing at the floor, as Stiles sunk in his chair, closing his eyes. No answers yet. But maybe eventually, they'd figure this shit out.

And maybe eventually Derek would forgive him completely for being a Grimm. Sure, the wolf seemed to have no problem with it but… Stiles knew the Alpha was most likely angsting about it on a level unknown to humans on the inside, bottling up his frustrations about it, his anger on not figuring it out sooner then he had. On how he must have seen the signs pointing to Stiles true identity, or to something close to that identity.

A flash of guilt went through him for a moment, before it vanished, being replaced with a pounding skull and a confused heart.

\---------

Stiles had headed back up to the bedroom he had been using- saying something about needing to rest his head a bit longer- leaving Derek alone in the kitchen, the pack hovering right outside, still not sure if they should disturb their Alpha or not. Derek rather wished that they wouldn't at the moment- as he was feeling a big void of conflicting emotions at the time. Conflicting emotions about Stiles- about whether he should trust him, kill him, or do something that sent fear down his spine. The third absurd choice had him holding back the most, and the only thing he could do for now was to keep his distance until he figured this all out.

Right now, he had to go dispose of the bodies around his house and burn their carcasses in the bonfire pit a little away from the house itself. Derek would be hesitant to making bonfires there afterwards, especially if some of the pack members insisted on roasting food over it. He almost felt like the Reapers and Hexenbeast's ashes would poison the area- or at least, the later. It'd been said that the bodies of Hexenbeast's were their last curse on whoever killed them- if they were buried they would cause the soil around them to become infertile, the grass would die, and animals would avoid the place like the plague. They had never said anything about their ashes, but there could always be that slim chance it went for that as well. Rubbing his forehead, he released another heavy breath, glancing up.

"Scott. Come here for a moment." He called, sitting back in the chair now, as Scott practically teleported into the room, appearing by Derek's side almost instantly. "I need you and the others to start getting rid of the bodies. Carry them through the woods, as far as you can from Hale land, all right? Burn them and then scatter the ashes. Bury the bones as well. Got it?" Scott nodded quickly, and once more, scampered off, and soon Derek could hear several pairs of feet leaving the house, and the sound of them picking up the bodies. There were a couple complaints about how the bodies stank, but otherwise, they did as he had ordered. As they should, with him being the Alpha.

The only person besides Stiles and two other humans in the house that hadn't left was Peter. He could feel his uncle's presence right outside the room, hovering there, until the older werewolf took a step inside the kitchen. Neither said anything for a long time, Derek bristling slightly, before Peter sighed.

"You know, you're lucky I even fetched Stiles. I could've left you to die at the hands of those Reapers instead. I even helped Stiles get rid of one of them, which obviously was a risk to my own health." The elder sauntered closer, brushing a hand over Derek's back, who jerked back from him instantly, shooting a glare at Peter. "Oh come on. You're still not holding a grudge over me trying to kill everyone? I promise I'm not trying to trick you."

"You always have some hidden agenda." Derek murmured, slowly standing up from the table, and walking to the window. "And you know I don't trust anyone."

"Even your pack?" Peter paused for a moment, hand hovering over the table. "Even Stiles? Sure, he hid his true… parentage, but he is the most trustworthy in your pack." He settled down in the chair Derek had vacated, glancing at his nephew from the corners of his eyes. "He trusts you, you know. More then you think."

"He most certainly doesn't trust me. I'm a North American Blutbad Alpha, and he's a Grimm. His kind hates mine." In his heart he knew he was wrong- Stiles didn't hate him or distrust him- but there was that part of him that just wanted to keep denying everything. To throw Stiles out into the street and not even think about him again.

"Then why did you save him last night? You killed the man who killed his mother. You ripped his throat out. We all saw the anger on your face. You can't fake hatred like that, Derek." Peter spoke smoothly, not missing a beat. "You care about Stiles, even if he's a Grimm. Actually, I think that makes you care more. A Grimm that doesn't want to kill every Blutbad it comes across… it's not a small thing."

"I don't care that he's a Grimm, I care that he didn't tell me that he's a Grimm!" Derek snapped, before he could stop himself. He released a deep breath, knowing his uncle probably had a smug look on his face, pressing a hand to his eyes. "You keep talking about how he trusts us, but how could he, if he couldn't trust us with the fact that he was a fucking Grimm? Sure, his uncle probably made him promise not tell us, but how the hell would he know, this far away from Portland?" Peter didn't reply, as Derek turned to face his uncle, his face a mask of anger.

"If he'd told us he was a Grimm, he wouldn't have probably even gotten hurt! He wouldn't have been put in danger!"

"You undermining Stiles abilities isn't going to do you any good, you realize. He's not some little kid you need to protect, or, a human. He can take care of himself." Peter stood now, walking over to Derek. "He got hurt because he got tired, not because he's weak. You need to accept that, move on, and get your shit together." There was irritation in the older werewolfs voice, hovering in the air between the two. "You have to deal with the Alpha pack, and having a Grimm on your side will make that much easier to do." He poked Derek's shoulder roughly, finally making his nephew look at him.

They just stared at each other for a long time, neither moving nor saying anything, until Derek finally nodded silently, pulling away from his uncle. "Alright..." He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll try and treat him like… like he's a wolf. I'm not going to like it though."

"Well you're going to have to, eventually." Peter sighed, shaking his head at his nephew. "Honestly, you act like such a child sometimes with things like these. Sometimes I wonder if you ever matured from when you were a teenager." Another sigh left the wolf, pressing a hand to his forehead.

Derek couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes at Peter, an exasperated breath leaving him. "And for once could you act like you give a shit about anything besides your own self preservation? I know you don't actually care about Stiles's relationship with me and how I view his whole status as a Grimm. You just want the chances of you getting killed by one of those Alphas' to go down." A hurt look crossed his uncle's face, pressing a hand to his heart.

"You wound me, nephew. Accusing me of not caring is like accusing Scott of not being obsessed with Allison!"

"He's not as obsessed this year. Which makes you not care in my book." Derek stepped out the door before Peter could respond with a quick comeback, just in time to watch his pack run off into the woods with the bodies. He paused for a moment, watching them leave, before sighing. He felt a small twinge of guilt- before he'd turned any of them, they'd probably hadn't even seen a dead body. The Alpha quickly reminded himself that all of this was necessary- for their survival.

Or at least his and Peters.

**End Chapter 19**

  



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